A Price To Pay
by lil Didi
Summary: What would happen if Zorro really had disappeared after Bishop shot Victoria? An AU story following the events of Broken Heart, Broken Mask.
1. Chapter 1

_This is an AU story following the events of the episode Broken Heart, Broken Mask. Some of the opening dialogue is taken from the episode which was written by Eugene Pressman. There are lines here and there from other episodes, probably too many to name._

**A Price To Pay**

_Prologue_

Diego de la Vega stood in front of the fireplace in the library, a length of black silk in his hands. He stared at the flames for a long time before he held up the piece of silk, two eye holes clearly visible. If you die, Victoria, Zorro will die with you. His own words came back to haunt him. Perhaps Zorro should die regardless, he thought bitterly. How much had he given up in his quest for justice? The respect of his father, Victoria's love, a family of his own. How much more would he have to sacrifice before justice was won? A wave of guilt came over him as he looked at the silk mask, and for a moment he thought he might be sick. With some disgust, he tossed it into the fire, watching as the flames licked at the edges before finally catching in a quick burst. Within moments, nothing of the mask remained and Diego stalked from the room.

_Week One, Day One_

Victoria could hear the soft, rhythmic ticking of a clock as she struggled back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and for a moment she did not know where she was. She put a hand to her fuzzy head, trying to clear it enough to take in her situation. The pristine, white walls were not her room at the tavern. She took stock of her surroundings, surprised when her gaze fell on Diego, slumped in a chair next to her bed, sleeping. She blinked and looked around again, realizing she was at the de la Vega hacienda. Yes, she was remembering now. She had been in front of the tavern, saying goodbye to Zorro, when she saw Bishop taking aim at her masked man's back. She remembered the sharp, searing pain in her side as she yelled a warning at Zorro, pushing him out of the way. And she remembered the lancers emerging from the cuartel, the alcalde calling for them to arrest Zorro, who had been reluctant to leave her side.

"Diego," she said, her voice coming out as nothing more than a squeak. She tried to swallow against the cottony dryness in her mouth and tried again. "Diego."

Diego's eyes came open with a start, and for a moment, he sat staring at her, not believing she was finally awake after all this time. When he was sure he was not dreaming, he dropped onto his knees next to the bed and grasped her hand.

"Victoria, you're alive." Diego said in relief.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week." The worst week of my life, Diego added to himself.

"And Zorro?" she asked, still struggling to remember.

"He escaped," he swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat. "We brought you here. He hasn't been seen since."

"What? Why?"

"When the bullet hit you instead of…him, he knew he could no longer endanger innocent people."

Victoria's brow narrowed as his words sunk in. "One bullet is a small price to pay for Zorro."

"It's a very big price to pay, Victoria. You almost died."

"But Zorro-"

"Zorro is only a part of our past now."

Victoria was surprised by the conviction in Diego's voice, and wondered how he could speak so confidently for Zorro. She was about to ask when Felipe rushed in carrying Don Alejandro's pistol case. He held it up to show that it was empty.

Diego rose and eyed the empty case for a moment. "My father's dueling pistols."

Felipe nodded, and began to sign frantically. Victoria was unable to follow, but obviously Diego did. Color began to rise in the caballero's neck.

"He went to the pueblo to face Bishop?" Diego asked in surprise.

Felipe nodded.

"Surely Zorro would not abandoned Don Alejandro," Victoria said.

Diego didn't respond, but Felipe saw his jaw clench.

"Rest, Victoria," Diego said through clenched teeth. "I'm going after my father."

"Be careful, Diego," she called after him as he rushed from the room, Felipe on his heels.

Once they were out of Victoria's sight, Felipe grabbed Diego's arm and signed a 'Z' in the air.

Diego shook his head and pulled his arm free. "No," was all he said as he rushed through the hacienda and out the front door. Felipe was left behind in stunned silence.

_ZZZ_

Diego arrived in the pueblo to a small crowd gathered in the plaza. Low murmurs started when he arrived, but he ignored them, his eyes scanning for his father, who was nowhere to be found. His horse slid to a stop and Diego leapt from the saddle, frantically looking for his father.

Don Emilio stepped out of the crowd and approached Diego with caution. "Diego, I'm so sorry-"

"Where is my father?" Diego interrupted.

Don Emilio looked to the crowd for support, but people were all the sudden moving away, not wanting to witness what was to come. He looked down at his own shoes.

"Where is he?" Diego roared, causing those that were left to look at Diego in surprise. They were not used to such outbursts from the mild mannered man.

"Dr. Hernandez's office," Don Emilio admitted quietly. "But Diego-"

Diego didn't wait to hear the rest, a chill settling over his heart as he ran to the edge of town where the doctor had a small office. It was in the back of the same building that held The Guardian office, and Diego rushed around to the back, bursting through the doctor's door. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.

The doctor was just pulling a sheet over his father, a stunned Sergeant Mendoza looking on, his hat held firmly in the crook of his arm. When he turned to Diego, there were tears in his eyes.

"Diego, I'm so sorry," Mendoza said, echoing the words of Don Emilio.

Diego stood frozen as he stared at the covered form of his father. The chill he had felt forming over his heart was slowly being eaten away by rage. His fists clenched.

"Bishop?" Diego asked through clenched teeth. His eyes were still glued to his father's still form.

Mendoza shot a look at Dr. Hernandez before he answered. "Si, Don Diego, but the alcalde-"

"To hell with the alcalde," Diego whispered harshly. "Where is Bishop?" he demanded in a stronger voice.

Dr. Hernandez came around the table, blocking Diego's view of his dead father. "Diego, don't do anything foolish. It won't bring your father back."

Diego's eyes came up to the doctor, but then shifted to Mendoza. The sergeant had never seen Diego so angry.

"Where is he?"

"Don Diego-"

Without waiting for a response, Diego spun around and left the office, roughly pushing Mendoza out of his way. Mendoza and Dr. Hernandez shared a shocked look before Mendoza hurried out the door after his friend.

Diego didn't have to look very hard for Bishop. He was standing in the plaza, speaking with the alcalde. He had obviously been alerted to Diego's arrival, and turned to wait for the young don as Diego strode angrily across the plaza. There was a smile playing at Bishop's lips.

When Diego was close enough to hear, Bishop gave a mocking laugh. "Well, look who is here, alcalde. The pup has finally come to defend his father. A little late, however."

Diego didn't even spare the alcalde a look as he lunged for Bishop, his right hand shooting out in a punch that found its mark, sending Bishop reeling backwards. He followed it up with a left that put Bishop on the ground on his backside.

"Get up, you coward," Diego yelled at the downed man.

"Who are you calling a coward?" Bishop said as he regained his feet.

"You are a cheat and a coward. You cheated and killed a distraught man in Don Carlos, tried to shoot Zorro in the back instead hitting a defenseless woman, and you goaded my father into a duel. Let's just see how you fair against someone besides old men and women." Diego threw another punch and Bishop tried to duck, but Diego saw the move coming and adjusted his swing enough to catch the big man a glancing blow. With two more quick jabs, he once again had Bishop on the ground.

"De la Vega, what do you think you are doing?" the alcalde asked, but Diego ignored him, instead moving after Bishop. He pulled the other man to his feet by the collar, only to send him flying backwards once again with another punch.

"Lancers, arrest de le Vega!" the alcalde yelled. A crowd was beginning to form on the tavern steps and in front of the church, astounded by the anger being displayed by the normally docile Diego. Two lancers immediately came forward, muskets ready, but Diego was busy with Bishop and paid them no attention.

With a cry of rage, Bishop got back to his feet and swung on Diego, who easily ducked the blow, popping back up with a swing of his own, sending the bigger man back to the ground.

The lancers hesitated, unsure if they wanted to get in the middle of the fight. "I said arrest him!" Ramon bellowed. One of the lancers took a better grip on his musket and approached Diego from behind. Diego had eyes only for Bishop and didn't see the lancer's approach.

The musket connected with Diego's head with a sharp crack. Diego fell to his knees, trying to shake his head to clear it. It was all the opening Bishop needed. He jumped back to his feet, landing a heavy kick to Diego's ribs, who collapsed under the blow. Bishop followed up with two more kicks, but the last one, Diego caught, pulling the other man off balance. He tried to scramble to his feet, his head swimming, but was felled once again by the lancer's musket. This time he collapsed to the ground and did not move.

The lancer was about to land another blow when Mendoza stepped in. "That's enough, lancer!"

Bishop got to his feet once again, landing another kick to Diego's ribs and a withering glance from the sergeant. "He attacked me!" he said pointing down at the semi-conscious Diego as blood dripped from his nose. "He should be arrested."

"As he will be," Ramon said. "Mendoza, take him to the cuartel."

"But alcalde, Don Diego was just upset about his father," Mendoza protested.

"I don't care, Mendoza. He attacked a leading citizen of the pueblo and he is to be arrested."

"Leading citizen?" Mendoza scoffed, earning him a sharp look from the gambler. Mendoza flinched but looked to the alcalde, his eyes clearly saying that Bishop had been nothing but trouble since coming to Los Angeles.

"Now, Mendoza!" was the alcalde's angry response.

With a shake of his head, Mendoza instructed the lancers to help Diego up and followed behind as they half-dragged the caballero to the jail. Mendoza shot a questioning look back at the alcalde and was disgusted by the slow smile he witnessed crossing the alcalde's face.

Murmurs raced through the gathered crowd as the alcalde led Bishop toward his office. Once inside, Bishop rounded on the official.

"He attacked me, alcalde, I demand satisfaction."

"Oh, I'll do better than that, my friend. How would you like…say fifteen minutes alone with de la Vega in his cell?"

Bishop gave him a questioning look. "Why would you do that?"

"The de la Vega's have been a thorn in my side for far too long. You've solved one of my de la Vega problems, and I am offering you the chance to solve the second one for me as well."

Bishop hesitated.

"Or perhaps you would like to be arrested for public dueling instead?" the alcalde said.

"No, alcalde, I don't think I would like that at all," Bishop said slowly. "Perhaps if we were left alone, with a lancer or two, of course, de la Vega and I could work through our little problem."

"I'm sure you could," Ramon said slowly. "Wait here while I…focus the sergeant's attention elsewhere. I will give you fifteen minutes, no more, so make them count."

Bishop wiped a trace of blood from his lip. "Oh, rest assured I will."

With a smile, Luis Ramon strode through the door leading to the cells, calling for Mendoza, who was keeping careful watch over Diego. The caballero was struggling to sit up, one hand on his sore ribs, the other on the back of his head.

Bishop watched through the barred window as Ramon led Mendoza out of the cells, motioning for the two lancers to stay behind. As soon as the alcalde and Mendoza were out of sight, Bishop stepped through the door and smiled at the two lancers that were waiting.

"Hold him," he said as he rubbed his knuckles.

The lancers glanced at each other, but shrugged and moved to obey, leaving their muskets propped against the wall outside of the cell.

Diego had risen unsteadily to his feet as soon as he heard Bishop speak and stood waiting for the lancers to enter his cell. He knew his only chance would be to get the lancers out of the way first. If he could get Bishop into a one-on-one fight, Diego knew he would prevail.

The moment the cautious lancers entered the cell, Diego lunged, grabbing both men by their collars and yanking them together so that their heads collided with a hollow sounding thud. Both sank to their knees, stunned. Bishop however had been expecting a move like that from Diego and rushed into the small cell, his fist connecting with Diego's jaw and sending the caballero backwards onto the bunk. Bishop quickly followed Diego, who lashed out with a boot, catching the gambler in the mid-section. Diego quickly scrambled off the bunk, trying for the door of the cell, wanting more room to maneuver, but also eyeing the muskets.

His hope died as he felt one of the lancers grab at his leg, slowing him down. A rough hand grabbed the back of his collar soon after and he felt the fabric tear as he was flung backwards against the wall, a flash of pain running up his already sore ribs as his back impacted the rough adobe wall. He managed to duck under a punch by Bishop, hearing the fist impact the wall, followed by a grunt of pain. He quickly pushed away the small amount of satisfaction he felt, knowing he was still in a great deal of danger.

Diego once again made a dash for the cell door, but this time one of the lancers was on his feet and blocking Diego's path. He grabbed the uniformed man by the arm, twisting it around to the lancers back awkwardly, ignoring the lancer's yelp of pain and sharp crack of bones breaking. He turned to locate Bishop, but turned right into a punch that sent him sprawling backward. He felt a hand grab him by the hair, pulling his head back, then forward forcefully into the bars. Diego's legs went weak as blackness encroached on his vision. He was tossed backwards, into the opposite bars, and another flame of pain ate at him. Blood trickled into his right eye and further impeded his vision. He saw a blur coming toward him and did not know if it was Bishop or a lancer, but kicked out with a foot, hitting what felt like a knee. Another, larger, blur moved toward him and Diego brought his own knee up, hoping to connect with a groin or mid-section, but was disappointed when he impacted a muscular thigh and heard only an annoyed grunt.

Once more a hand grabbed Diego by the hair and forced his face into the bars, and this time Diego's knees gave out as he collapsed to the floor. He felt the sticky warmth of blood running down his face, but knew it didn't matter anymore. He let the darkness take him as blows rained down on him, his last conscious thought was I'm sorry, Father.

_ZZZ_

At the end of the fifteen minutes, Bishop stood over the motionless caballero with a grim smile. He wiped a trickle of his own blood off his face as he looked down at Diego's still form. With an angry grunt, he stomped on the cabellero's outstretched hand, wondering if he was imagining he felt the bones snap beneath his boot. With that, he turned on his heal and strode from the cell, ignoring the two lancers that were also sprawled on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Sergeant Mendoza shook his head as he crossed the cuartel yard toward the jail cells. He mimicked the alcalde's voice in his head with a sing-song voice, thoroughly annoyed with the other man's pettiness. He had just spent twenty minutes listening to a rambling lecture by the alcalde on following orders promptly and without question. In the end, Luis Ramon told Mendoza that he had not been quick enough in arresting Don Diego and that any further hesitation on Mendoza's part would be punished swiftly. Mendoza doubted the alcalde would do anything too drastic to him though. Not with Zorro around. Even though it had been a week since anyone had seen the masked man, Mendoza felt confident that Zorro would not abandon the people completely. He was probably just worried about Senorita Victoria, that's all.

Mendoza reached the jail cells and went in through a side door, pulling his hat off as he entered. "I'm sorry, Don Diego, but the alcalde will not release you-"

Mendoza halted in mid-sentence when he saw what was before him. He dropped his hat on the floor and rushed to the front of the cell. One of his lancers was cradling an obviously broken arm and the other was limping out of the cell, one hand holding his knee in pain. But Mendoza did not spare a glance at the lancers as he pushed past them to kneel next to Diego. His gaze was fastened on his friend and the blood pooling around his head.

"What on earth happened here?" Mendoza exclaimed, finally looking to his lancers for answers. "What did you do?"

"Not us, sergeant," the limping lancer said. "It was that gambler."

Mendoza's jaw fell open. "Bishop?"

The lancer nodded as the door leading to the alcalde's office opened and the Ramon stepped through, followed by Corporal Sepulveda.

"Sepulveda, go get Dr. Hernandez, on the double!' Mendoza barked.

The corporal looked at Diego in shock for a moment before he hurried off.

Luis Ramon stood in the doorway trying to hide a slow smile. "What happened? Did Diego have a bad fall?"

"Fall? This doesn't happen in a fall!" Mendoza said, incredulous. "It was Bishop!"

The alcalde merely raised a questioning brow. "And what proof do you have of this, Mendoza?" he asked calmly.

"They told me," Mendoza said, pointing to the lancers.

"Is this true?" Ramon said slowly, staring at the two injured lancers.

The pair wilted under the penetrating gaze of the alcalde. They carefully avoided making eye contact with Mendoza as they said in unison "He fell."

"Then how did you get hurt?" Mendoza yelled, angry at the obvious lie.

"I fell," said the first lancer.

"Me too." Followed the second quickly.

Ramon did not even try to hide his smile now. "Mendoza, get a wagon and have a patrol take Don Diego home."

"Dr. Hernandez will be here-"

"Are you questioning my orders again, Sergeant?"

Mendoza swallowed hard, remembering the conversation from moments ago. "No alcalde."

"Good. Dr. Hernandez will be busy helping these brave lancers with their injuries and I am sure Don Diego will be more comfortable in his own home." The alcalde turned on his heels and went into his office. The two injured lancers scrambled out of the jail as fast as their injuries allowed, using the side door.

Mendoza turned back to Diego's still form, bile rising in his throat. Perhaps Zorro has abandoned us after all, he thought as he reached out a tentative hand to see if his friend was alive.

_ZZZ_

Less than an hour later, four lancers guided a wagon to the steps of the de la Vega hacienda. Two of the lancers in the wagon quickly jumped down and grabbed the still form of the man lying in the back of the wagon while a third dismounted from his horse and went to the door, giving it three loud knocks. He didn't wait for a response, rushing back to his horse as the other two carried the man to the door and dumped him on the ground. They too returned to the wagon with haste, and before the door swung open, the wagon was racing back to the pueblo.

Finally, the door did open and the de la Vega cook, Maria, looked down on the battered and bloody face of her patron, Don Diego. The lancers heard her scream even over the pounding of the horse's hooves.

_ZZZ_

Mendoza hurried across the plaza, glad to be away from the gleefully happy alcalde. For the last hour he had had to sit and listen to the alcalde talk about how things would be different in the pueblo now that Zorro was gone to who knew where, Don Alejandro was dead, and Don Diego incapacitated for what the alcalde assumed to be some time, if not permanently. The alcalde had even been whistling, a sound Mendoza had never heard him make before.

Shaking his head, Mendoza repressed a shudder of revulsion. Luis Ramon had never been what Mendoza would call a just man, but never before had Mendoza observed him reach this level of uncaring cruelty. It was all Mendoza could do to hold down his breakfast after the mornings events, yet the alcalde sat in his office like he had just won a prize.

Mendoza stepped into the cool, dim interior of the tavern and was not surprised to see the place nearly empty. The death of Don Alejandro had hit the little pueblo hard, but those who had stayed in town had been even more shocked by what had happened to Don Diego.

Pilar's husband Arturo was helping out at the tavern while Victoria recovered from her wound and he immediately came to Mendoza's side.

"Is it true, Sergeant Mendoza, what they say about Don Diego?"

Mendoza had to swallow hard as another wave of nausea hit him when he thought about Diego. He gave a non-committal shrug.

"They say Bishop got into the jail." Arturo prodded again. "That he and Diego fought inside."

Mendoza put a hand over his stomach. "Do you have any tequila, 'Turo?"

"Tequila? Si, sergeant. Let me get you a glass."

"The bottle, por favor."

Arturo gave him a surprised look, but nodded as he pulled a full bottle from behind the wooden bar, handing it to Mendoza.

"Is Don Diego dead?" Arturo asked quietly.

Mendoza shrugged again, not knowing the answer himself. "I don't know," Mendoza said under his breath. "But he was close to it, I think." Mendoza took the bottle, handing Arturo the last coin he had, and left the tavern, leaving behind a stunned silence.

When he was once again safely outside, Mendoza looked down at the bottle in his shaking hand. He did not normally drink anything stronger than wine, but this had been a day he would rather forget, and he hoped the tequila would help. He turned around the side of the tavern, heading for the little stall in back. Once inside, he opened the bottle, took a long drink, feeling it burn from the back of his throat all the way to his stomach. It did nothing for his queasy stomach, but he hastily took another drink. He leaned against the wall and slid down. Before he even hit the floor, great sobs began to escape. He shook his head, tipping the bottle to his lips as warm tears ran down his cheeks.

_Week One, Day Three_

Time held no meaning to Diego as he drifted between the conscious and the unconscious. The brief moments he was able to struggle through the haze of pain and crack open his one good eye, he saw faces, but was not able to place names, or understand what words were coming out of their mouths. Inevitably, he would fall back into the darkness within moments.

Eventually, he was able to hold onto consciousness a little longer, and the faces around him fell into place. He knew Felipe sat with him often, worry creasing his young face. He saw Victoria as well, and Dr. Hernandez, who usually helped Diego to drink what he recognized as his own cactus tea. But he never saw the one face he really wanted to; his father.


	3. Chapter 3

_Week One, Day Five_

Diego struggled through the haze to hear the regular cadence of a prayer and he knew before he even opened his one eye that Padre Benitez was with him. When he felt the slippery wetness of oil being spread on his forehead in the sign of a cross, he knew he was being anointed. For some reason, it made him want to laugh, if he could.

"Am I dying, padre?" he forced out through cracked and swollen lips. It was a hoarse whisper only, but it stopped the padre in mid-prayer.

After a brief, stunned silence, Padre Benitez shook his head. "Not if our heavenly Father is listening to me."

Diego gave him the smallest of nods. His right eye was swollen shut, but he cracked open the left to look at the padre. His body ached from head to foot, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He was not ready to submit to the darkness yet, though. There was one thing he had to know first.

"Padre," he whispered again. He saw the concern on the face of Padre Benitez, but forced the words out anyway. "My father…is he really…?" Diego could not finish.

Benitez looked at Diego with sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry, my son, but we buried him two days ago. Your father is in heaven now."

Diego swallowed the lump in his throat as the information sunk in. A vise like grip settled over his heart and his fist clenched. A part of him had hoped, prayed as fervently as Padre Benitez had just been praying, that all of this was some kind of nightmare, and that his father was alive, Victoria had never been shot, and that Zorro had not failed them all.

"Diego, I am sorry," Padre Benitez said quietly.

Diego did not respond, instead turning his head painfully away from the padre, his eye closing. He shut out everything around him, sinking willfully into the blackness once more.

_Week Two, Day One_

Felipe squirmed in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. He had been sitting in this chair for so many days now, he felt like he was becoming attached to it. His eyes scanned the room, and he finally stood up to open the shutters over the window. The early morning was cool, but Felipe felt the room was too stuffy and that the fresh air might do Diego some good. He stood in the window for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. When he turned back to the bed, he let a tired sigh escape.

It had been a long week, but nothing was as bad as the first few days had been. Just getting Diego in the house had been an ordeal, and at the time, Felipe had given thanks that Diego has stayed unconscious the whole time. But he wasn't out for long. Once he was settled in his bed, Diego had begun coughing up blood, and thrashing around. By the time Dr. Hernandez arrived, Felipe was sure his friend and mentor was dying. At the doctors instruction, they had tied Diego's arms and legs down, trying to limit the damage that his thrashing around was doing. The doctor had wrapped Diego's ribs tightly, again trying to limit the caballero's movements.

It had helped, and eventually, Diego had stopped trying to move in his sleep, which in turn lessened the coughing fits. Felipe was grateful for that much at least. He had never seen so much blood come from one person.

As Felipe looked down at his friend now, Diego's head was still swathed in bandages, the bandage coming down over his right eye which was still swollen shut, though the swelling was much better than it had been a week ago. Felipe dropped back into his seat. He wanted to touch Diego, let him know that Felipe was here, but he didn't want to cause his friend any more pain.

Felipe listened to the birds outside the window as they happily chirped. He let his attention drift for a while, until a big yawn brought him back to the present. He turned back to Diego and was surprised to see the other man was awake and watching him. Felipe quickly came to his feet, standing at the edge of the bed. Tentatively, he reached out and took Diego's left hand, holding it between his two smaller ones. Diego didn't speak, just stared at Felipe. Finally, he gave the boy's hand a small squeeze and pulled his hand away. Felipe watched as Diego's eye closed once again, and Felipe watched as his chest settled into a steady rhythm indicating that the older man was once again asleep.

_Week Two, Day Five_

Sergeant Mendoza walked into the tavern with a dark cloud hanging over him. He spotted two of his lancers at a corner table and shot them an angry look. The pair scrambled to their feet and hurried out, leaving the fuming sergeant standing in the center of the tavern. The other tavern guests looked at him with concern, but said nothing. They knew better. For almost two weeks now, Mendoza had been stalking around the pueblo, yelling at lancers, snapping orders, and generally being in a foul mood. Not even the return of Victoria, and her renowned cooking, to the tavern a few days prior could lighten his mood.

Mendoza strode to a table and sat down abruptly. He ran a hand over his tired face. Pilar came to his table with a carafe of wine and set it down. She knew better than to ask him what he wanted. Lately it had been wine, always wine. He rarely ate anything, just sat and drank, the wine doing nothing to improve his mood. Twice he had asked for something stronger, and twice Pilar had refused him. Now he didn't even ask, just accepted the wine and poured himself a glass.

Victoria came through the curtain, bringing a tray of food to one of the tables. She still moved slowly and rarely carried more than a plate or two at a time. Her mood had been just as black as Mendoza's since her return, though hers seemed to be more from sadness than the anger Mendoza carried around with him. Everyone assumed it was the mysterious absence of Zorro that weighed on Victoria, but no one understood what Mendoza's problem was.

Victoria moved to the sergeant's table. She gave him a dark look upon seeing the wine. He quickly swallowed what was left in his glass, afraid she would take it away from him. She didn't approve of the sergeant's drinking, which Pilar had told her had dramatically increased in the last two weeks.

"How is Don Diego, Victoria?" he asked quietly.

Victoria shrugged. "He is…recovering, I suppose. He doesn't really talk much, or eat much. He just stares at the ceiling." She looked at Mendoza. "You should visit him, Sergeant. I think he could use a friend right now."

"Oh, no," Mendoza stumbled. "I couldn't. I mean, he probably doesn't want to see me, given what happened and all."

"Why? It's not like it was your fault."

Mendoza didn't answer, knowing the exact opposite was true. He never should have arrested Diego in the first place. He shouldn't have let him leave the doctor's office in such a rage, shouldn't have left Diego in that cell with two lancers that were obviously in the alcalde's pocket. And he never should have allowed those same lancers to get away with such a blatant lie about what happened to Diego.

"Well, if you change your mind, I am sure Diego would be happy to see you," Victoria said. She was about to return to the kitchen when she heard a shout from the plaza.

"Mendoza!"

Mendoza's head fell as he rose. "Now what does he want?" he muttered as he quickly poured another splash of wine and drank it down before heading for the tavern door.

"Probably wants you to post a new tax!" Victoria spit out. The alcalde was finding new ways to oppress the people every day.

Mendoza shrugged. He turned to go, but spun back around. "Senorita Victoria, do you think Zorro has abandoned us like everyone is saying?" he asked quietly.

Victoria did not respond immediately. Diego's words about Zorro being a part of their past echoed in her ears on a daily basis, but she didn't want to believe it. However, he had not been seen since the day she was shot, over three weeks ago and even she was beginning to have her doubts if he would ever come back. She had tried to talk to Diego about it twice as he recovered, but he refused to respond to any of her questions about Zorro. But his words still nagged at her.

"I don't know, Sergeant, I hope not."

Mendoza gave her a sad nod.

"Mendoza!" came the alcalde's call again.

Mendoza winced and hurried out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

_Week Three, Day Three_

Three weeks into his recovery, Diego was able to sit up in bed, though his ribs ached if he sat upright for too long. He had even tried walking a few times, but he had only made it a few steps before collapsing in pain and exhaustion.

Felipe stayed by his side almost night and day, trying to get him to eat more, or sleep more, or drink more cactus tea when needed. Diego had never been a good patient, but this time was even worse than usual. He rarely spoke, even when they were alone and Diego didn't have to pretend Felipe was deaf and use the hand signs that clearly exhausted him.

Once Diego's right eye was no longer swollen shut, Felipe tried to bring Diego books from the library to help pass the time, but with his one hand still heavily bandaged, Diego had trouble holding the books, and had finally given up trying to read. Occasionally, when Victoria was visiting, she would read to him, and it seemed to help Diego's mood somewhat.

Not for the first time, Felipe wished Don Alejandro were here. He missed the older man terribly, but knew Diego was grieving even more than he was. He was sure it was the reason, or at least part of the reason, Diego was being so quiet, but had no idea how to help the young caballero move past that grief if Diego wouldn't even talk about it.

The worst part was that Felipe knew Diego was not only holding in his grief over his father's death, but there also seemed to be a barely controlled anger below the surface. Felipe had seen Diego angry a few times, usually at something low and petty that the alcalde had done, but this was different. This time, he could almost feel an anger coming in waves from Diego. It made Felipe slightly afraid for Diego to fully recover. He wasn't sure what the caballero would do once he was on his feet again.

Felipe carried a tray into the room and set it down on the desk, turning to help Diego gingerly sit up. Once Diego was settled, Felipe retrieved the tray and set it on Diego's lap. Diego eyed the bowl of soup before shaking his head.

"I'm not very hungry, Felipe."

Felipe frowned and signed that Diego needed to at least try, but Diego just shook his head.

Felipe put both hands together in a gesture that said please.

Diego looked back at the bowl of soup and picked up the spoon in his left hand. He took a few cautious bites, careful not to dribble the broth as he raised it to his mouth. After two bites, he put the spoon down.

Felipe frowned again, but did not push any further. He took the tray, turning his back on Diego as he returned it to the desk. He took a moment to gather himself but felt tears forming anyway. He took a few deep breaths, but it didn't help. All of the emotions he had been holding at bay for over three weeks welled up in him and he spun around to face Diego, not caring that tears had escaped to run down his cheeks.

'Why won't you talk to me?' Felipe signed.

Diego looked at the boy. "What would you like to talk about?" he asked calmly.

Felipe threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Anything. The weather, a book, how you are feeling. I want to know how I can help.' Felipe signed desperately.

Diego was quiet for a long time, looking down at his bandaged hand. "You can't help me, Felipe," Diego said very quietly.

Felipe drew a question mark in the air with his finger.

Diego shook his head. He settled back into the pillows and closed his eyes. "I'm rather tired, Felipe, I think I will sleep for a while."

Felipe stood next to him, hot tears streaking down his face. Finally, he turned on his heel and left the room. He didn't stop until he was in the stable, and even then he saddled his pony quickly, ignoring the questioning looks from the stable hands. When he was finished, he mounted and rode away, without so much as a glance back.

_Week Five_

One week, Victoria thought as she prepared vegetables for lunch. It had been one week since Diego had mysteriously disappeared. She would never forget that day. She had gone to the hacienda to see him but had been met at the door by a frantic Felipe, who was signing so fast Victoria couldn't keep up or understand what the problem was. Finally, Felipe had pulled her into the kitchen, where Maria had been calmly preparing dinner.

"Maria, do you know what is wrong with Felipe? He is trying to tell me something but I can't understand what he is saying."

"Oh," Maria said as she watched Felipe's gestures. "I think perhaps he is trying to tell you about Don Diego."

"Diego?" Victoria asked, immediately concerned. "Did something happen, is he okay?"

Maria wrung her hands on her apron, looking nervously back and forth between Victoria and Felipe. "Oh, no…I mean, yes, he is fine. I think." Maria stopped, unsure how to go on. Felipe continued signing, urging Maria on, but the older woman just shrugged.

With a huff of frustration, Victoria spun around and headed for Diego's room. If Maria wouldn't tell her what was wrong, she would find out herself. Her footsteps echoed off the tile floor as she approached his room. She hesitated at the door, calling out to Diego so he at least knew she was coming in.

"Diego?" She called. No reply. "Diego?"

She had stepped into the room and stopped cold. His bed was empty. For a moment, fear clutched at her heart. She turned around and headed back for the kitchen.

"Where is he?" Victoria demanded as soon as she was back in the presence of Maria and Felipe. Both had guilty looks on their faces, but Felipe's was tinged with something else. He signed to Maria, urging her to tell Victoria what she knew.

"He's gone, senorita," Maria finally said reluctantly.

Victoria felt her panic rising. "Gone? Gone where? He could barely even walk without help."

Maria shook her head. "I don't know…exactly."

Victoria shook her head and took a deep breath, willing herself to be calm. She looked at Felipe who shot her a sympathetic look as if saying 'Do you see what I have been dealing with all morning?'

"Maria, why don't you tell me what you do know. Exactly."

Maria looked uncomfortable, but she did as she was told. "I came in this morning, and there was a note from Don Diego. He said he was going away for a while and that Miguel and I were…to keep things in order until he got back."

Victoria knew that Miguel was the head vaquero for the de la Vega's. It made sense that Diego would put Miguel in charge of the rancho. And even though the household staff was small compared to other haciendas of this size, Maria had always been in charge of the other servants, so that was no surprise either. But why would Diego leave, especially in his condition? Victoria waited for Maria to go on, but the cook said no more.

"Where was he going? Who was helping him?"

"I do not know these things, Senorita."

Victoria clamped down on her impatience. She gave Felipe a brief look, but he seemed as frustrated as she was. "What else did he say in the letter?" she asked Maria.

Maria seemed hesitant to say anymore.

"Did he say when he would be back?"

Maria shook her head.

At the end of her patience, Victoria asked to see the letter.

Maria looked startled for a moment, her eyes darting over to the oven. "I'm sorry, Senorita, I…I don't have it anymore. I put it in the oven fire."

Victoria knew immediately that Maria was lying, but she could hardly accuse the older woman without proof. Besides, this was not her hacienda, and she was sure Diego, when he came back, would not appreciate her harassing the servants. She blew out a frustrated breath.

The door to the back entrance suddenly came open and Miguel came through the door. He was looking down at a letter in his hand and did not notice Felipe or Victoria at first.

"Maria, do you know what this letter is all about from-" he stopped abruptly when he looked up and saw Victoria looking at him hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had guests, I will come back." The vaquero turned to go. But Victoria stopped him.

"No!" she said abruptly. "Miguel, please, don't go. Can't you tell me what is going on? Diego is missing and Maria has only said that he left a note saying he was leaving. Do you know where Diego is?"

Miguel looked nervously between Maria and Victoria, finally shaking his head. "No, Senorita."

"The letter," she said pointing to the document in his hand, which he gripped even tighter. "It doesn't say where he was going?"

"No, Senorita."

"Or how long he will be gone?"

"No, Senorita."

Victoria felt her frustration returning. Then a thought occurred to her. "How did he leave?"

Miguel looked at her in confusion. He looked to Maria for guidance, but the older woman only shrugged slightly.

"He could hardly walk, Miguel, so he must have taken a carriage, a wagon, something? Perhaps there are tracks we can follow."

Miguel still stood before her in confusion, but Felipe stiffened. He understood what Victoria was asking and knew the answer to the question. Diego didn't take a carriage or a wagon, he took a horse. A very specific horse, but Miguel wouldn't know that. Only Felipe knew that Tornado was also missing.

"He did not take a wagon, or a carriage, Senorita. All of the de la Vega carriages and wagons are accounted for."

"Miguel," Victoria said, "Diego must have taken something, he could hardly have walked away from the rancho. Where is Esperanza?"

"His horse? She is in the stable." Miguel answered.

Victoria was about to lose her temper. "Then perhaps he took another horse? Maybe Dulcinea?" She didn't really think Diego would take Dulcinea, who was temperamental at best. Even in perfect health, Diego could hardly handle the spirited old mare.

"All of the de la Vega horses are in the stable, Senorita. He did not take a horse, either."

Victoria bit back a sharp retort as Felipe grabbed her arm and pointed to himself, then to his eyes, and finally motioned around the hacienda.

"You looked for tracks, Felipe?"

The boy nodded vigorously.

"And you didn't find anything?"

Felipe shook his head, feeling a pang of guilt for the slight lie. As soon as he realized that Tornado was also missing, he had tried to follow the big horse's tracks. But Diego must have known Felipe would try to follow, because within a mile, the tracks became so confused that Felipe was unable to go any further. He had returned to the hacienda in frustration just as Victoria had arrived.

And now Victoria sat in the tavern, trying once again to figure out what had happened to her friend. When she had learned that none of the de la Vega horses, carriages, or wagons were missing, she had a moment of panic, wondering if Diego had been taken forcibly from the hacienda. But there was no evidence of that either. And then there was the mysterious letter Diego had left for Maria.

Victoria chopped her vegetables with gusto. She was still convinced that the letter said more than what Maria had told her, but all of her pleading had gained her nothing. Maria steadfastly refused to say any more about it, and insisted that she had burned the letter.

All of it left Victoria wondering how her life had changed so much in so short a time. Since the day she had woke up in the de la Vega guestroom, she felt like her life had been spiraling out of control. First, Diego told her that Zorro was gone, then Don Alejandro was killed, then Diego was beaten to within an inch of his life, and now was missing. She had lost the man she loved, the man who was like a father to her, and her best friend all in the span of a few short weeks.

Victoria sighed. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could handle.


	5. Chapter 5

_Week Seven_

"Diego."

The sun forced its way under Diego's closed eyelids, causing him to stir as sleep fled.

"Diego."

Diego sat bolt upright, gasping as a jab of pain shot through his torso. He looked around the small cave where he slept, his heart pounding, but there was no one there. He scrambled to his feet, stepping outside into the full sunshine, looking around, but there was no one around outside either. With a resigned sigh and a hand held to his still sore ribs, he turned back to the sheltering cave that had been his home for three weeks.

The cave was shallow, but deep enough for him to escape the occasional rains, and served well as a place to sleep. A fire built at the opening helped keep him warm during the cool mountain nights. During the day, he spent very little time here, so it didn't matter that the space was not high enough for him to stand upright in.

Diego tried to shake the echo of the voice from his mind. Twice since his arrival in the mountains he had been woken from a sound sleep, hearing what he thought was his father's voice calling for him. Both times he had come awake only to realize that his father wasn't around to call for him anymore. It was a painful reality to face first thing in the morning.

Kneeling, Diego carefully straightened up his sleeping area, folding his blanket and setting it aside. He re-arranged his bedding which consisted of pine boughs and dried grass, fluffing it up as much as possible. Sleeping on the hard ground was not helping his ribs heal any faster, and he made a mental note to look for more grass to use as padding while he was out walking.

It had been his routine since his arrival to walk every day. At first, he had only been able to walk a few steps around his camp before he had to sit to catch his breath and allow the pain to fade. But as soon as he could, he would force himself back to his feet, making a circle around camp until the pain became unbearable and he had to sit once more. Each day, he expanded his circle around camp until finally he was walking miles instead of minutes.

Diego turned away from the little cave and began walking west. There was a large meadow about a mile away where Tornado was grazing. When Diego stepped out of the trees into the meadow, he heard Tornado give him a whiny and watched as the horse ran over to greet him. Diego gave him a scratch under the chin as Tornado pushed his nose into Diego's chest.

"Are you bored out here, boy?" Diego asked softly. It was strange, hearing his own voice, after being alone for so long.

The horse tossed his head in response, turning to run a few feet before returning to nudge Diego once again. Diego gave the horse a half smile. "Or is it that you miss Felipe's treats?"

As soon as he thought about Felipe, a pang of guilt hit Diego like a blow. When he had left, he had thought about leaving a note for Felipe, and even one for Victoria, but he had no idea what to tell the either one of them. At the time, he had been desperate to put some space between himself and those he loved, knowing his silence was hurting them both, but unable to express what he was feeling. In the end, he had left short notes for both Maria and Miguel, giving them each specific instructions on what to do while he was gone. He had also left Maria two additional instructions. The first was that a small packet of letters was to be sent to Diego's lawyer friend, Don Luis Cristoba. One of the letters gave Don Luis the power to make any big decisions regarding the rancho while Diego was gone. It also contained a will, which gave Felipe and Victoria the majority of the estate. The rest was divided up among the servants. It would have been easier if Victoria and Diego had been married, or Diego had formally adopted Felipe, but Diego had no doubt Don Luis would make sure his last wishes were carried out, should something unforeseen happen.

The second instruction Diego gave Maria was that none of this information was to be given to Felipe or Victoria. Diego knew the two of them would be upset enough with him leaving so abruptly, let alone if they knew he was making arrangements for the possibility that he would not return. But he had worried and hurt them enough, he wouldn't do it again. He trusted Maria and knew the older woman would do whatever was necessary to carry out Diego's instructions to the letter.

Diego gave Tornado a final pat. "Soon, my friend," he said. "Soon we will be riding again. Then we will think about our return." He watched as Tornado tossed his head once more, taking off at a run to circle the meadow. Another week, maybe two, and Diego would start easing back into a full training routine, which would include running, riding and practicing with a sword. Outside of Tornado, the sword was the only item of Zorro's he had brought with him.

It had been a pain filled ride, just getting to the mountains. His ribs, unable to take the jostling of a full gallop, had forced Diego to keep Tornado to a walk as they made their escape from the hacienda. Diego knew that Felipe would try to follow, so he had circled Tornado back several times, confusing their trail. When he was sure the boy would not be able to make out the direction of where they were going, he had headed north and east, to the mountains. He had ridden through the night and well into the next day, until he was sure he would pass out from the pain, before he stopped. He rested for a full day before he continued east, riding for three more days before finally stopping at the small cave. Diego had released Tornado to graze, knowing the intelligent animal would not go far. He had rested for two more days before beginning his walking routine.

Diego left the meadow and Tornado behind and headed for the river. He would try to catch a fish or two for breakfast before he began his walk. Today he would go north, to the top of a peak that stood out against the rest of the mountains. It was at least five miles, perhaps as much as eight, to the base of the peak, and probably two more to the top. It would be a long day for him, but a good test to see how far he was in his recovery.

_Week Ten_

A slow smile spread across Luis Ramon's face. The gambler, Bishop, sat in the chair opposite and matched the alcalde's grin.

"This is getting almost too easy, Ramon," Bishop said.

The alcalde didn't respond right away, instead pulling in a deep drag on the cigar he was smoking. He blew out a ring of smoke and leaned back in his chair. "It's brilliant is what it is."

Bishop knew better than to dispute the fact. It was a tidy scheme they had going. Bishop would find an attractive spot of land and the alcalde raised taxes until the farmer could no longer pay. Once the farmer was behind in taxes, the alcalde could easily find an excuse to seize the land, then Bishop turned around and sold it for a huge profit, which they split evenly. They even managed a similar scheme with the cattle of the dons. If anyone protested, the alcalde would buy off one of the many thieves and bandits that were suddenly plaguing the area, and they would 'convince' the dons that it was safer to keep quiet.

The best part was, it took very little convincing to keep the dons in line. Since the disappearance of Zorro, the death of Don Alejandro and the disappearance of his son, Don Diego, the dons had very little resistance left in them. They were too scared that the same thing would happen to them. In fact, most of them had found that it was easier to go along with, even support, the alcalde's schemes than risk losing their ranchos, or worse their lives.

The only citizen that they couldn't seem to bend to their will was Victoria Escalante. Bishop had been banned from her tavern, but he hardly cared. When he wanted to gamble, he simply rode to San Pedro and played with the sailors. He wouldn't win any haciendas the size of Don Carlos' playing with sailors, but he still won plenty of their pay.

Victoria's resistance rankled the alcalde, though. She was a leader in the small community and had a nasty habit of voicing her opinions a little too often. Left unchecked, she may be able to gather other citizens to her cause. It wasn't something the alcalde could allow to continue. He watched her carefully, waiting for an opportunity to have her arrested. He couldn't move too soon, or her supporters may rally. No, he would wait a little longer, until the spirit of more citizens was crushed, at which point even Victoria Escalante would not be able to rally them.


	6. Chapter 6

_Week Twelve, Day One_

Sergeant Jaime Mendoza sat in the shade of the back wall of the church and sipped his bottle. It was a hot day and he was grateful not only for the peace and quiet of siesta, but for the bottle in his hand. Arturo had snuck a bottle to Mendoza that morning while Victoria was busy in the kitchen. Victoria had in essence banned the sergeant from the tavern, at least until as she put it, Mendoza got his act together. He had been drinking more and more lately, until finally, Victoria had put her foot down and banned him. She told him she was doing it for his own good, but Mendoza no longer cared. All he knew was that the wine helped him to forget. Helped him forget watching Don Alejandro die in the doctor's office and helped him to forget his friend Diego's broken body being hauled off by a patrol of lancers.

Mendoza took a deep swig from the bottle before letting out a small belch. He spent most of his time out on patrol these days, though he didn't know what he was patrolling for. There were plenty of bandits around now, but even if Mendoza caught one by some miracle and brought them into the jail, the alcalde usually cut some sort of deal with them and they were free within a day, terrorizing some family that was short on paying their taxes.

Mendoza took another drink as he thought about the alcalde. Mendoza had given up trying to keep the lancers in line. The alcalde had a few lancers that he favored and as much as Mendoza tried to discipline them, the alcalde would spare them. More and more of his soldiers were falling under the alcalde's influence. Some of them even seemed to enjoy throwing the hard working farmers out of their homes when they didn't pay taxes. The whole thing made Mendoza a little sick. But he was a soldier, it was all he knew. He couldn't quit.

At least when Zorro had been around, the alcalde had been kept in check, Menodza thought as he took another long drink. But now, without the threat that Zorro had represented, the alcalde was given free rein to oppress the people. Those who had the means were already talking about leaving. Soon, only the peons and mission Indians would be left. The alcalde didn't bother them because they had nothing of value to take.

With a last gulp, Mendoza finished the bottle. His head was spinning, as well as his empty stomach, but he didn't care. He tossed the bottle aside and leaned his head back against the cool adobe wall, his eyes drifting closed. Soon, soft snores could be heard.

The sleeping sergeant did not notice a shadow fall over him as a dark shape on top of the mission roof looked down on the drunken soldier and shook its head.

_ZZZ_

Private Manny Ortiz rode north carrying official dispatches to Santa Barbara. He whistled to himself as he rode, completely oblivious to what was going on around him, not even noticing that he was being followed by a masked man wearing all black. He was just happy to be out of the cuartel and away from the crazy alcalde, even it was a hot day for a ride.

After some time, he stopped whistling, reaching down for his water skin as he rounded a curve in the road. He pulled his horse up short, the water not quite reaching his lips, as he stared at the apparition that had suddenly appeared in front of him. He rubbed at his eyes, thinking he must be seeing an illusion, but the figure did not move. Ortiz swallowed hard.

"Senor Zorro?" he asked in a voice no more than a whisper.

The black figure did not move, did not speak. But there was anger in the man's eyes that pierced the private to his very soul. Ortiz tossed away the water skin, and jerked his horse around, spurring him back the way he had come, a desperate fear eating at his heart. Before he knew it there was a pounding of hooves next to him, and Ortiz risked a look to his right, only to see the masked man riding next to him. Before Ortiz could even move, a black clad fist shot out, connecting with Ortiz's jaw. He felt himself tumbling from his horse, tried to brace himself for the fall, but hit the ground hard on his right shoulder, his breath knocked out of him as pain radiated down his arm.

The last thing Ortiz saw before he passed out was Zorro looking down on him from atop his great black stallion.

_ZZZ_

Alcalde Luis Ramon crossed the plaza to the tavern, looking for Mendoza.

"Probably drunk again," Ramon muttered under his breath. "The man is worthless. I should have him drummed out of the service."

Before he reached the tavern step, a horse moving into the plaza at a high rate of speed caught his eye. He stopped, watching the horse approach. When it was close enough, he realized that there was a figure on the horse, wearing the uniform of a lancer.

Ramon jumped in front of the racing horse, waving his arms and attempting to slow the animal down. At the last moment, the horse veered around the alcalde, coming to a stop in front of the cuartel gate. The alcalde raced across the plaza to grab the reins of the frightened horse. When the animal was under control, Ramon gave the lancer a closer look and his jaw dropped open. Several other lancers came out of the cuartel and crowded around the horse, no one speaking.

Private Ortiz groaned and tried to lift his head, but he was securely tied to his mount and was unable to move.

"Lancers, untie him," Ramon said, stunned. Two of the lancers that had come out of the cuartel quickly obeyed. Private Ortiz was only semi-conscious and slid from the saddle as soon as he was free of the ropes that had bound him. The lancers reached out to grab him under the armpits, but a cry of pain from Ortiz quickly changed their minds. One of the lancers grabbed him by the front of his jacket instead, holding Ortiz upright with effort.

Ramon stepped in front of Ortiz and gave him a light slap. "Lancer, what is the meaning of this? What happened to you?"

Ramon thought he heard Ortiz mumble something about a masked bandit.

"Who did this?" Ramon asked again. The lancers looked at him in question. To them, it was pretty obvious who did this. After all, the familiar mark was prominently displayed across Ortiz's back. They hadn't seen it in many months, but each of them knew what the mark was. And what it meant; he was back.

Ortiz didn't answer, just groaned in pain. He was holding his shoulder, and from the odd angle at which his arm was hanging, Ramon guessed that the soldier had either a broken shoulder, or at the very least, a badly dislocated one. Ramon almost laughed at the unlikely circumstance. The lancer had just healed from a badly broken arm he had suffered several months ago.

"Take him to Dr. Hernandez," Ramon mumbled. He watched as two soldiers half carried, half dragged the wounded lancer, who was now moaning in agony. But Ramon paid no attention to the pain of his lancer. His eyes were glued to the lancer's retreating back, shaking his head at the large _'Z'_ carved into the cloth. With a grim look, Ramon took a deep breath and yelled for his sergeant.

"Mendoza!"


	7. Chapter 7

Zorro did not return to the cave at the hacienda after he sent Ortiz back to the pueblo tied to his horse. Instead he headed west, to a camp that he had established several days ago on de la Vega land. The camp was in a rocky, hilly area and suited Zorro's purposes well. It was well hidden, the few trees that were able to grow among the rocks ringed his camp, and Diego knew for a fact that the de la Vega hands rarely came this far west since the land was too rugged for cattle.

He had built up his camp as a final training ground using tree trunks, rocks, and the hilly landscape to set up an obstacle course of sorts that he had been using for the past few days. For the most part, he felt recovered enough from his injuries, the only exceptions being his ribs which only occasionally bothered him if he moved wrong, and his right hand. It tended to be very stiff first thing in the morning, especially on the cooler mornings. It often made holding his sword difficult when he trained in the pre-dawn light, but like everything else, he pushed past it.

Now, as he entered his temporary camp, he let a deep sigh escape. He had not intended to hurt the lancer as bad as he had, but he did not feel any remorse, either. He remembered all too well that Ortiz had been one of the lancers in his cell three months ago when the gambler Bishop had nearly killed him. But the wounded lancer would send a clear message to Luis Ramon. The 'Z' carved into the back of his uniform would let Ramon know that Zorro was back. And if the alcalde was smart, he would realize that Zorro was not happy.

Zorro quickly changed his clothes and took care of Tornado. The horse pranced around, seeming to be happy to be back in action. He gave Diego a familiar shove with his nose before moving away to graze. Diego watched the animal for several moments before he settled into his evening routine. He ate a quick dinner of dried meat and tortillas, which he had taken from Maria's kitchen two nights ago when he had made a brief return to the hacienda for Zorro's clothes, then began his training regimen.

As he worked, he thought about his return to the hacienda two nights ago. He had gone in through the cave well after midnight, when he knew everyone would be asleep. He had resisted the temptation to check in on Felipe, not fully understanding how much he missed the boy until he was actually in the hacienda and only a few hundred feet away from him. But he did not take the chance, knowing if he was discovered, he would have a hard time not only explaining what he was doing there in the middle of the night, but also where he had been all this time. Instead, Diego had gone to his own room, retrieved some clean clothes, and then made his way to the kitchen to pick up enough supplies to last him the few more days he would need before he made his presence known.

Diego's sword whistled through the air as he practiced his fencing, his breath coming harder as he thought about his return to the pueblo. He had been keeping an eye on the pueblo the past few days, mostly at night or in the early morning, usually from the rooftops, where he would not be seen. He had a good idea what the alcalde was up to, and Diego realized that his return was well timed. The alcalde was up to his usual tricks, over-taxing the people and generally making life more difficult than it already was living on the frontier. But even from the rooftops, he could tell that the citizens of the pueblo were about at the end of their collective rope. Women and children were no longer seen in the plaza or the pueblo in general, except for attending mass. Peasants and farmers rushed through any chores they had in the pueblo, not wanting to fall under the scrutiny of the alcalde any longer than was necessary.

It was while he watched the people of the pueblo that Diego finally made up his mind regarding Zorro's return. When he told Victoria that Zorro was a part of the past, he had meant it. But spending eight weeks alone in the woods gave him plenty of time to think and he had realized that he was faced with the same problem he had when he returned from Spain. If he fought the alcalde openly, as Diego, retribution would be swift against those Diego cared about the most; Victoria, Felipe, even the de la Vega servants and friends. The death of his father had not changed that.

But while Diego had accepted the inevitable return of Zorro, he also knew in his heart that this time, Zorro would be different. He would no longer play the role of a reactionary; waiting for whatever scheme the alcalde would come up with to oppress the people. The alcalde and his new friend Bishop had a price to pay, not only for what they had done to his father and Victoria, but for what they were now doing to the people of Los Angeles as well.

The problem of keeping Victoria and Felipe safe, however, was one that he did not have as ready a solution for. Felipe had always been a great help to Zorro, but the danger he was constantly in by helping Zorro was never far from Diego's mind. And then there was Victoria. Her love for Zorro put her in a dangerous position. In order to keep them both safe, Diego was going to have to do something he wasn't very fond of. He would have to keep them both at a distance, shield them from Zorro's activities by disassociating them both from Zorro's life. It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't make him happy to do it, but he would rather have two angry friends than two dead ones.

The sword sang as Diego's moves became faster. The anger he felt at his predicament, the alcalde, and Bishop fueled his movements, and beads of sweat formed along his brow. His gaze was intent as he went through the training moves that had become as familiar to him as the sunshine. A few more days, he thought. A few more days and he would be ready to confront the alcalde's evil.

_Week Twelve, Day Three_

Corporal Alejo Martinez removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He watched as fellow soldiers spread out through the rocks, looking for any sign of Zorro. He thought it was a waste of time, looking for the masked bandit, but he knew better than to question the alcalde's orders. Frankly, he doubted that Zorro had really returned after all these months. Knowing Private Ortiz as he did, he guessed the man had lost his dispatches and to cover up his error made up the story of being chased by Zorro. Of course, the injury to the man's arm was serious, but that could be faked too, as a way to get out of his fair share of work.

Martinez replaced his hat and urged his horse forward. He could no longer see the rest of the men and he didn't want to fall too far behind. He picked his way through the rocks, watching the ground for tracks as he went. As he circled around a large boulder, he was surprised to see a piece of black cloth on the ground. He looked around, but he still didn't see the other men, so he slid off of his horse and kneeled down to examine the cloth. He picked it up to find that it was a smooth, silk material. When he held it up, he saw two eye holes and he dropped the cloth as if he had been burned. He tried to stand, but just then something frightened his horse and it reared up. Alejo put his arms up to protect himself from the flailing hooves, but the horse turned and ran in the opposite direction. He tried to follow, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hola, Corporal Martinez," came a deep voice behind him.

Martinez did not turn around, even though the hand on his shoulder lessened its pressure. He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "Who…who are you?"

"Oh, come now, Corporal, I'm sure you know perfectly well who I am. And why I have come for you."

"Come for me?" Manny squeaked out. "Why me?"

The silence that greeted him caused a cold fear to grip Alejo. He made his mind up quickly and lunged forward, out of the grasp of the hand at his shoulder. He scrambled to get away, but he heard a sharp crack and felt the whip circle around his feet, halting his progress. He fell to his knees.

"Please, senor Zorro," Alejo begged as he rolled over to see the man in black standing over him. "Don't kill me."

Zorro made no response, but looked around them. Alejo saw his eyes stop on a ledge nearby and the fear that clutched at his heart intensified. With a boot, Zorro rolled the lancer over to the edge. Alejo looked over and swallowed. The ravine was about a hundred feet deep with many smaller, rocky ledges. They would do nothing to increase his chance for survival if he went over.

"Please don't kill me, Zorro." He begged again.

Zorro kneeled next to the soldier. "Why shouldn't I? You blindly follow the alcalde's orders, even though you know that they are heartless and cruel. You terrorize poor farmers, stealing their last pesos before you evict them from their own land. You, Corporal Martinez, are just as bad as our pathetic alcalde, who doesn't deserve to continue to breathe. Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"Please, I am a soldier, Senor Zorro. I was only following orders!"

"And were you following orders when you tried to help the gambler Bishop murder Diego de la Vega?"

What color was left in Alejo's face suddenly drained. "I…that…we-"

"That's what I thought," Zorro said. With three swipes of his sword and a last push of his booted foot, he sent Corporal Martinez over the edge, a large 'Z' carved in the lancers jacket.

Alejo felt himself falling and a scream escaped his lips as he did so. He felt light as he dropped and he tried to roll into a ball to protect himself as best he could. He sent up a prayer asking forgiveness as he braced for the impact that would surely break bones. But a sudden jerk at his feet reminded the lancer that his feet were still bound by Zorro's whip. His drop stopped with a sudden jolt and Alejo opened his clinched eyes to find himself hanging by the feet over the edge.

He looked up to see Zorro staring down at him.

"I leave you to contemplate your future as a soldier, Corporal. I suggest you think hard about your next career choice." With that the man in black left him.

Alejo felt growing warmth around his middle as he hung over the edge of the ravine. He screamed for help, begging Zorro to come back. Within moments he heard the pounding of hooves, and he knew he was alone. He screamed again, wondering how far his companions had gone and if they would hear him.


	8. Chapter 8

_Week Twelve, Day Four_

The next morning dawned sunny and bright. Bishop sat in the alcalde's office, his feet propped up on Ramon's desk. He, for one, was appreciative of the beautiful day. The alcalde, though, was another matter entirely. Bishop puffed on his cigar as he listened to the alcalde rant about Zorro. He leaned back in his chair, a smile playing at his lips.

Ramon's anger finally played out and he looked over at Bishop. "You look amused, Bishop. Is there something funny I should know about?"

"I was just thinking about your lancer from yesterday. Is it true that he wet himself as he was hanging over the ravine?"

Ramon gave him an exasperated sigh. "Yes, and he had screamed himself hoarse. He was babbling like an idiot when they finally pulled him to safety." He pounded a fist on his desk. "It took me two hours to get the story out of him last night."

Bishop blew out a ring of smoke. "I can just see the fool hanging there, whimpering in fear."

Ramon ignored the comment. "Private Ortiz has a broken shoulder and Corporal Martinez may never be…right again. This is all very un-Zorro like." He stroked his chin in thought. "Perhaps this isn't the real Zorro. What if some fool decided Zorro wasn't coming back and took up the mask, so to speak?"

"As you said, it would be a very foolish move."

"Yes, but-"

"I fail to see why you are getting so worked up over a masked bandit, Ramon."

"You don't know Zorro," Ramon snapped.

"Oh, but I do, alcalde," Bishop said. "You will remember that he stopped me from killing Don Carlos immediately when the crazy old man called me a cheat."

"And?" the alcalde prompted.

"And, in doing so, he showed me his weakness. The fool gave me back my pistol, then stood around making eyes at that…woman. If she hadn't interfered, he would be dead already."

The alcalde looked less than impressed.

Bishop rolled his eyes. "If you want to get to Zorro, use the girl."

"I've tried that before. It doesn't work."

"Your lancers couldn't shoot Zorro if he was standing two feet in front of them. You need someone that can aim."

Ramon looked at him skeptically. "What makes you think you can kill Zorro when a whole garrison of soldiers has failed?"

Bishop put his feet down and rose. "You get the girl in your jail, and I guarantee that I will kill Zorro for you when he shows up to rescue her." He leaned over the desk. "For a small fee, of course."

Alcalde Ramon considered the offer for a moment. What did he truly have to lose? "The reward for Zorro was 5000 pesos before he disappeared. You kill him and it is yours," he said.

Bishop's smile grew even bigger as he blew out another smoke ring. He turned around and left the office. The alcalde watched him go, contemplating. If this was the real Zorro, there was no question he would show up to rescue Victoria. But if it wasn't…who knew if he would actually appear to help the tavern owner. Of course, on the bright side, at least she would be in his jail and not out encouraging revolt among the citizens. He rubbed his chin once again, trying to think of an excuse he could use to arrest the annoying tavern owner. He went through the door to his private quarters, not noticing the dark shadow that had been watching him from the skylight above his desk.

_ZZZ_

Mendoza's head ached and his stomach was doing little flip flops as he left the barracks, pulling the door to his quarters closed behind him. The bottle and a half of wine he had consumed the night before had helped him to fall asleep, but was doing nothing for his mood this morning.

Once again he had found himself drinking to forget. This time, he was trying to forget the horrified look on Corporal Martinez's face when they had pulled him up from the edge of the ravine. While the other soldiers had tried to get Martinez to tell them what happened, Sergeant Mendoza had only stared at the 'Z' cut into the man's jacket. First it was Ortiz, now Martinez. Mendoza knew that he was next. Both men had been present for the fight between Bishop and Don Diego, and though Mendoza had come along too late to do anything about it, he had been there as well. Which in his mind meant Zorro would come for him next.

A shiver of fear ran up Mendoza's spine. He had no doubt that he deserved whatever Zorro had in mind for him, but he hoped whatever it was, it came quickly. He didn't want to be left hanging over a ravine for an hour, wondering if he was going to live or die. He would be in worse shape than Martinez if that happened.

His stomach grumbled as he walked. He had slept through breakfast at the garrison, but perhaps he could sneak a tortilla or two from Victoria's kitchen, to help settle his stomach. He was picturing what other items he could possibly find to go with the tortilla's when he passed by the door to the armory. He was so engrossed in his thoughts of food that he did not notice the door slide open as he passed, and he didn't hear the boots that fell into step behind him. In fact, he didn't notice anything except for the pounding in his head until a black gloved hand clamped down on his mouth and he was pulled backward into the armory.

Mendoza was shoved roughly against the wall, the gloved hand still covering his mouth. The door to the armory swung shut, cutting off any light, before Mendoza could see who had grabbed him. He struggled to get loose until a punch to the gut doubled him over. The hand covering his mouth disappeared and Mendoza gasped for breath as he held his stomach. Suddenly a flint was struck and a candle was lit. Mendoza looked up to see who had hit him and nearly feinted at the face before him.

"Zorro!" he breathed. "Is it really you?"

Zorro did not answer. His look was grim as he waited for Mendoza to get his breath back and recover from the blow.

When Mendoza was able to draw a breath again, he eyed the candle, which was sitting on a barrel of gunpowder and a shiver of fear ran through him.

"So that is it. You're going to blow me up."

Zorro's eyes narrowed in question but he still did not speak.

"First Ortiz and then Martinez and now it is my turn. You are going to try to kill me, too."

"Have you been drinking already this morning, Sergeant?" Zorro asked with some anger.

Mendoza shook his still aching head carefully.

"Why would I want to kill you?" Zorro asked.

"It was my fault. The whole thing was my fault." There was true regret in his tone and Mendoza's eyes fell to the ground as he spoke. "I deserve whatever you do to me, Zorro."

"Sergeant, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Don Diego," Mendoza said sadly. "It was my fault, what happened to him. I should have helped him. I never should have let him leave Dr. Hernandez's office that day. I shouldn't have left him alone in the jail cell. I should have stopped the alcalde. I should have-"

Zorro replaced his gloved hand over Mendoza's mouth. His anger seemed to lessen as he gave Mendoza a sympathetic look. "I'm not here about that, Mendoza," he said softly.

Mendoza's eyes widened. "Er umph?" Mendoza said behind the gloved hand, which Zorro slowly removed.

"You're not?" Mendoza repeated.

"No."

"Then you don't want to kill me?"

Zorro hesitated only a moment before he answered. "I don't want to kill you, Mendoza. But if I catch you drinking again, I may be tempted to hang you upside down from the church bell tower."

Mendoza let his head hang.

Silence stretched between the two of them for several minutes before Zorro put a hand on Mendoza's shoulder. "I believe you are a good man, Mendoza. You have made some bad choices lately, but I won't hold it against you, not if you can pull yourself together."

Mendoza's eyes met Zorro's, which Zorro took as an acknowledgement to go on.

"I will need your help going forward, but today especially."

"Just tell me what to do." Mendoza said with more confidence than he felt.

"I need you to go to the tavern and keep Victoria occupied."

"Occupied? What for? For how long?"

Zorro took a deep breath. "For as long as it takes to do what I need to do." He stopped any further questions with a wave of his hand. "It starts today, Mendoza. The alcalde will pay for his crimes, as will his friend Bishop. Things…may happen that I do not wish Victoria to see."

The sergeant gave Zorro a slow nod.

"I want you to be sure, Mendoza, that you understand what I am asking of you. The alcalde has run rampant over the people for far too long. I intend to put a stop to it. You must make a decision, to stand up to the alcalde and help me win back this pueblo, or continue to bow to Luis Ramon's orders. Know that if you choose to help me, I will back you up when I can, but I can't be everywhere. And I will be relying on you to keep Victoria safe when I am not here." He locked eyes with the sergeant. "Can I count on you?"

Mendoza swallowed hard. "Si, Zorro, I will help you where I can."

Zorro gave him a firm nod. "Good. How many of the garrison lancers do you trust?"

Mendoza shrugged. "A few, maybe. Sepulveda, I think, but not many others. They are all too afraid of the alcalde to stand up to him."

Zorro was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Alright, then take Sepulveda and go to the tavern. Keep an eye on Victoria. The alcalde has plans to arrest her, and I will need you to keep him busy at the tavern and Victoria out of harm's way while I…attend to Bishop."

Mendoza swallowed hard. How am I supposed to do that? He gave a hesitant nod. "Si, Zorro, I will do my best."

"You must do better than that, Mendoza. My life, as well as yours and Victoria's, may depend on it."

Again, Mendoza nodded gravely. His head still hurt and it seemed awfully early in the day to be putting his life at risk. "Si," he finally said.

Zorro motioned toward the door and Mendoza turned to leave. He turned the knob, but hesitated before he opened the door. He turned back to the man in black. "I am really happy that you are back, Zorro."

Zorro merely nodded and bent over to blow out the candle. The armory was once again engulfed in darkness. Mendoza pulled open the door, but Zorro's voice out of the shadows stopped him.

"You can let go of your guilt, Sergeant Mendoza. You could not have stopped Don Diego from going after Bishop that day, nor could you have helped him in that cell."

Mendoza squinted into the darkness of the armory, but could not see Zorro. He let the words sink in before he stepped through the door and out into the bright sunshine.


	9. Chapter 9

_ZZZ_

Few people lingered in the plaza as the afternoon siesta got underway. The plaza was never crowded these days, but it was even quieter at this time of the afternoon. 'Just as well' Zorro thought from his perch on the roof of the church. He watched as the alcalde and three lancers strode into the plaza looking toward the tavern. Behind them, Bishop and two other men stepped out into the sunshine. Bishop and his men lingered in front of the alcalde's office as the alcalde motioned the lancers forward. Zorro moved quickly toward the back of the church where he climbed down to the ground. As the alcalde disappeared inside the tavern, Zorro made his way around the side to the front.

Bishop and his men had moved to the tavern porch as they waited for the alcalde to bring the tavern owner out. The two men with him pulled pistols out and checked them to be sure they were primed and ready. Neither of them noticed the black clad figure that stepped up onto the porch behind them until it was too late. The first one dropped to his knees, then flopped down onto the porch, unconscious before he hit the ground. The second spun around only to be stopped by the hilt of Zorro's sword as his fist struck the stranger's chin. He too was out cold as he hit the ground.

Bishop hadn't even had time to shout a warning before both of his men were out. He looked Zorro up and down.

"So, the rumors are true. You have returned."

Zorro stepped forward without responding.

"You're so predictable. We knew you would come for the tavern wench."

Zorro still did not respond, but took another step forward. Bishop took a step back and nearly tripped off the porch. He pulled his own pistol as he regained his balance, pointing it at the masked man.

"Your woman isn't around to save you this time, Zorro," he said as he squeezed the trigger.

In a flash, Zorro's sword knocked aside the gun and the bullet hit harmlessly into the side wall of the tavern. The shot, however, drew the attention of the few people near the plaza. Murmurs could be heard when people spotted Zorro and they moved closer, watching the interaction between the two men carefully. Word spread quickly and more people came out of homes and shops to watch.

Zorro continued to move forward, his movements causing Bishop to step backward. They were nearing the blacksmith shop and Bishop had to keep looking over his shoulder to be sure he didn't trip over anything. His eyes darted to the tavern, expecting the alcalde to come out to investigate the sound of the gunshot.

"You're on your own this time, Bishop. No alcalde and no lancers to come to your aide." Zorro's voice held a level of menace in it that people had not heard before.

Bishop pulled out his knife. "I'm going to cut your heart out."

Zorro held out his sword, which dwarfed the small knife. "It won't be much of a contest, senor."

Bishop made a wild swing, which Zorro easily blocked with his sword. With his free hand, he landed a punch that sent Bishop flailing backwards. The big man caught his balance once again and swung the knife at Zorro's mid-section. Zorro easily dodged it again, this bringing his sword down on Bishop's wrist causing the knife to fall to the ground. Bishop let out a small cry of pain and held his injured wrist. With a shove, Zorro pushed him away and sheathed his sword.

The perimeter of the plaza was filling with spectators as word spread of Zorro's return. The people spoke in hushed tones as the fight went on. Zorro easily dodged the blows from Bishop which were getting wilder and wilder the longer the fight went on. Zorro fought only with his fists, but it was more than enough to keep Bishop at bay.

With a loud crash, the door to the tavern flew open and Victoria, followed closely by Mendoza and Corporal Sepulveda, as well as the alcalde came spilling out. For a moment, Victoria was surprised by the number of people in the plaza. Her eyes followed what had their attention, and she gasped as she saw Zorro.

"Senorita Victoria, please, I am supposed to take care of you," Mendoza pleaded in her ear.

Victoria ignored him and edged closer to the fight. She finally stopped when Mendoza put a hand out to grab her arm.

Zorro had Bishop on the ground yet again. He reached down and pulled him to his feet by the collar, only to send him sprawling backwards with a right cross. When his fist connected with Bishop's chin, pain shot through Zorro's right hand, but he shook it off and moved toward Bishop once more. This time, he struck out with his left fist and Bishop collapsed.

"That was for Don Carlos," Zorro said to Bishop as he once more pulled him to his feet. He brought his knee up sharply into Bishop's ribs, doubling the other man over, and following it up by grabbing Bishop by the lapels and hurling him through the wall of the blacksmith stable. "And that was for Victoria."

The alcalde stepped off the tavern porch and pointed to Zorro. "Sergeant Mendoza, arrest that man."

Mendoza hesitated. "Alcalde, I don't have my rifle with me…"

Ramon rolled his eyes and looked at the other lancers that had been in the tavern with him, who also seemed to suddenly be weaponless. "Get your weapons, I want Zorro!" The lancers scrambled to obey, including Sepulveda, who stepped in the path of the other lancers, tripping them up and causing general chaos. Mendoza let out a relived breath.

Bishop was slowly getting to his feet once again, but not before he reached into his boot and pulled out another knife, its blade glinting in the bright sunshine. He lunged at Zorro, swinging the knife in a wide arc. Zorro jumped backward to avoid the blade, but the crowd gave a collective gasp as they heard fabric tear, thinking that Zorro had been caught by the knife.

The knife twisted in Zorro's cape but did not hit flesh. In one smooth motion, Zorro drew his sword and spun away from the knife, his sword flashing as he swung toward Bishop.

A cry of pain brought the attention of everyone to Bishop. With a shocked expression, he looked at Zorro, then down at his side where the sword had left a deep gouge. With a roar of frustration, he swung the knife once more, lunging straight for Zorro. Zorro stepped to the side to easily dodge the blow, but thrust his own sword forward and into Bishop's chest. There were shocked cries from the gathered crowd.

Bishop's eyes went wide as he looked down at the sword protruding from his chest. He looked back up at Zorro as his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees.

Zorro dropped to his knees in front of Bishop, his own eyes full of anger. "And that was for my father," he said, his voice low so that only Bishop would hear.

Bishop's eyes narrowed as he looked at Zorro, then went wide once more as understanding dawned on him. He tried to draw in a breath, but found he could not do so. "It's you," he wheezed. He looked toward the alcalde, but was unable to speak as he collapsed to the ground. Zorro pulled his sword free and rose, slowly. He looked around, seeming to see for the first time that he had drawn a crowd. He saw Victoria near the tavern and frowned. He was unable to do more before the alcalde roared for his lancers to arrest him. With a shake of his head, Zorro whistled for Tornado and leaped onto his horse's back, racing from the plaza without even a glance back at the woman he loved.

_ZZZ_

The tavern was packed as the sun went down. Everyone wanted to talk not only about the return of Zorro, but also the death of the gambler Bishop. Some felt shock that Zorro would actually kill, others were grateful to finally have Bishop's arrogant presence gone from the pueblo. Regardless of their leanings as to the circumstances of Zorro's return, everyone was happy to see their hero back in action.

That is everyone except for one. The alcalde was definitely not happy with the return of the masked man. As soon as Zorro rode away, the alcalde was ordering his men into pursuit. Mendoza hurried to obey, thinking that after openly defying the alcalde in the tavern, it was best to be out of his immediate vicinity. He knew they had no hope of catching Zorro, but he would certainly be content to spend a few hours out of the alcalde's way. As soon as the lancers were gone, the alcalde stalked to his office, not even sparing a glance to the fallen gambler.

For her part, Victoria kept up a happy face as she and Pilar raced around the tavern serving their customers. She listened as the people exchanged questions and stories, but made no comment unless she was directly spoken to. But inside, she was alternating between shock, confusion, and anger. Shock at Zorro so easily killing another man, let alone seeing the man she had only been able to dream about for the last few months. Confusion at why he had left in the first place, and anger that he had been back, apparently for several days, and hadn't even tried to contact her.

Zorro had disappeared from her life the day she had saved his; the day Bishop had shot her. And while she was glad he was back, she wasn't sure what to make of his return. Zorro had never purposely killed a man, not to mention Ortiz's broken shoulder and Martinez's…well what had happened to Martinez. All of it was very un-Zorro like.

She stepped through the curtain and wiped away a trickle of sweat from her forehead. She stood for a moment looking at the pile of dirty dishes that waited for her. With a sigh, she decided it was no use putting it off any longer. She grabbed the bucket of dirty dish water and stepped through the kitchen door. She casually tossed the water aside and turned to go back in.

The sound of a horse blowing stopped her short. Slowly, she turned back around and squinted into the shadows. At first, she could not see anything in the growing darkness, but when Tornado took two steps forward out of the shadows, she saw him. Zorro sat on Tornado watching her, his mouth grim.

They were silent for several minutes, their eyes locked. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "You're back."

"So it would seem," he said as he brought his leg over the saddle horn and slipped from the saddle. He dropped the reins and took a few hesitant steps toward her.

"I was beginning to think you really were gone for good." A part of the past, as Diego had said, she added to herself.

His eyes dropped to the ground briefly before he looked back at her. "I will always come back for you, Victoria," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"You took your time about it," she said with a hint of anger. "Exactly how long have you been back?"

Zorro shrugged. "A few days."

"You could have told me, you know," she said, letting the anger drop from her words.

"I had things to do, to prepare."

Victoria nodded. "For Bishop?" she asked softly.

"Among other things."

His answers were vague and Victoria wondered if he was talking about Ortiz and Martinez, or if he meant something else. She let that question die on her lips, instead saying, "I've never seen you kill someone before. It…it wasn't like you."

Zorro's eyes blazed for a moment. "He killed Don Carlos, nearly killed you, and killed my f-…Don Alejandro. I gave him a far better death than he deserved." Zorro let out a frustrated breath and shook his head, as if trying to shake away the anger.

Zorro's near mistake wasn't lost on Victoria, but she was more concerned with the vehemence with which he spoke. As he spoke, she could feel the anger coming from him and realized it wasn't unlike the anger she had felt coming from Diego before he disappeared. She had to swallow past the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

"I'm sorry," Zorro said softly. "You weren't supposed to see that."

Victoria's eyes narrowed slightly. "You sent Mendoza to keep me in the tavern, didn't you?"

Their eyes locked once again and after a few moments, Zorro gave her a barely perceptible nod. "I wasn't sure what would happen. I only wanted for you to be safe."

"Well, he…actually did an admirable job. But once I knew what was going on outside…it would have taken more than Mendoza to keep me away."

Zorro nodded. He should have known that Mendoza would be no match for Victoria, once she had made her mind up.

"Don't blame him, Zorro. He has had a rough time lately."

"I know," he said softly. "I've been watching."

Victoria's brow creased, but before she could respond, he turned to go.

"I should leave. The lancers will be back before long."

Victoria took a step after him. After all this time, she wasn't ready for him to go so soon. "Are you back? Forever I mean?"

Zorro turned back to her. She could see a flash of pain in his eyes. "Perhaps," he said with a slight shrug. "I have business to finish with the alcalde."

Eyes wide, she asked, "You…aren't going to kill him, are you?"

Zorro didn't respond right away. He mounted Tornado before he looked back down at her. "Not if I don't have to. But I promise you this, Victoria. His days of using this pueblo for his own gain are over."

Victoria reached up and gave Tornado a soft pat on the nose.

"Be careful, Victoria. Stay out of the alcalde's way. He won't be happy with my return and may still try to use you to get to me."

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Buenos noches, Victoria," Zorro said as he guided Tornado away from the tavern and disappeared into the shadows.

"Buenos noches, Zorro," Victoria whispered into the darkness.

_ZZZ_

Felipe paced the cave, chewing his thumb nail. He contemplated saddling his own pony and going to the pueblo, to see for himself if the rumors of Zorro's return were true. But in the end, he knew he would have a better chance of seeing Zorro if he waited here, in the cave.

News of Zorro's return had spread quickly. He had been in the kitchen, stacking wood for the cook-fire, when Miguel had rushed in to tell Maria the news. Not only had Zorro been spotted in the pueblo, he had actually killed Senor Bishop, the very man that was responsible for the awful injuries sustained by their patron, Don Diego. When Maria had some choice and very un-lady-like words about Bishop, Felipe had been glad the servants thought he was deaf. He had had to hide a smile behind his hand.

Now, as he wore a path in the floor, Felipe wondered for at least the hundredth time in the last few months where Diego had been all this time. In his heart, he knew Diego would return, sooner or later, but as time went on, doubts began to creep in. A few times, he had found excuses to go to the nearby pueblos where he would look around, listen to conversations, to see if there were any signs of Diego. But each time he had come home empty handed, frustrated, and worried.

At first, he had come regularly to the cave, thinking that Diego, and Zorro, would be back sooner rather than later. But as time went on, he had come into the cave less and less. He kept things neat and tidy, and once a week he gathered fresh hay for Tornado's stall, just in case.

A sound at the cave entrance brought Felipe's attention sharply into focus. He stopped and waited every sense on alert. Finally, the soft clop of horse hooves came into the cave and Felipe watched as Tornado went to his familiar spot, Zorro on his back. The two locked eyes for a moment before Zorro dismounted. Instantly, Felipe launched himself into Zorro's arms, clasping his friend in a massive bear hug.

Zorro was nearly knocked off his feet, but regained his balance quickly. After a brief hesitation, he returned Felipe's gesture. "I've missed you too, Felipe," he said quietly.

Felipe pulled away with a shy smile. Zorro gave his head a familiar rub. "You've grown," he said as they stepped into the cave proper. Zorro pulled his mask off and tossed it along with his hat, onto the work table.

Felipe gave him an appraising look. Diego seemed to be fully recovered and except for a fresh, pink scar under his right eye and one that ran above the same eye, along his brow, did not show any lasting effects of his injuries. Felipe pulled at Diego's sleeve to get his attention and signed a question.

"I'm fine," Diego answered. He pulled off his gloves and watched as Felipe signed another question.

Diego looked down before he nodded. When he met Felipe's questioning gaze, his voice took on an edge to it. "Yes, Bishop is dead."

Good, Felipe thought as signed. For a moment, he thought Diego would scold him for thinking that, but Diego merely gave him a grim look.

For the next half hour, Diego patiently answered Felipe's signed questions. Some of the answers Felipe received were vague, such as where Diego had been all this time, others his mentor explained at great length. Finally, Diego held up his hand.

"Enough, Felipe. We will have plenty of time to talk more, but it is late and you should be in bed."

Felipe pointed at Tornado, who had been patiently waiting, and when Diego nodded, he got up to un-tack and bed down the horse. Diego pulled his clothes out of the saddlebag and changed while Felipe worked. When Felipe was done, he headed for the stairs into the hacienda, but stopped when he realized that Diego wasn't following.

"Go ahead," Diego said. "I don't want Diego's return to coincide too closely with Zorro's, so I will sleep here tonight." He pointed to the small cot that rested against one wall of the cave.

Felipe hesitated. He couldn't help but remember that the last time he saw Diego the man could barely even walk. Thinking of those injuries, the small cot didn't look very comfortable to him.

"It's fine, Felipe," Diego said, reading the young man's mind. "I've spent the last two months sleeping on the ground in the woods. This will be a luxury I assure you."

Felipe stared at him. It was the first clue Diego had given him about where he had been these past weeks. Sleeping alone in the woods, on the ground? That's where Diego had gone? But why?

Diego sat on the cot and began to pull off his boots, effectively ending the argument. Felipe gave him one last look and turned toward the stairs. At the top he spun around, ran back to Diego and gave him another hug, then hurried up the stairs and was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

As Felipe disappeared up the stairs to the hacienda, Diego sat thinking for some time. It was harder than he thought it would be, trying to keep Felipe and Victoria at a distance. He wanted to talk to Felipe, to tell him what he was thinking and why. He wanted to tell him that it wasn't a good thing that Zorro killed Bishop, even though Diego wasn't sure it was how he really felt.

Diego sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, knocking a lock free to fall into his eyes. With a flick of his head, he tossed it back into place and settled back on the cot. Six months ago, he never would have guessed that it was so easy to sink Toledo steel into human flesh and kill a man. While a part of him felt revulsion at the memory, there was another, deeper part of him that felt a small amount of satisfaction in knowing that Bishop would never again hurt someone he loved.

Shaking the thought away, Diego put one hand under his head and stared up at the cave ceiling. His thoughts automatically switched to Victoria as he remembered their brief meeting. He had thought he could go to the pueblo, do what needed to be done, and leave, without seeing her, talking to her. But as he led the lancers on a futile chase, he realized he couldn't come back to the cave without seeing her first, so he had turned Tornado back toward the pueblo, waiting in the shadows, unsure if he should go into the tavern via his usual high window route, or go home. But as the door to the kitchen opened, he knew it was her before she even stepped through the door and had nudged Tornado into the light. It had been a relief, after so many months away, just to see her.

It was too quickly over as the looming threat of the lancer's return pushed him into leaving before he really wanted to. The short visit would have to be enough, though, if he wanted to keep her safe while he worked to find a way to end the alcalde's reign of terror. It wouldn't be easy, for either of them he was sure, but it would have to be done.

In frustration, Diego rolled onto his side. He forced his mind to relax as he let his eyes drifted closed. After some time, he finally faded into a restless sleep, plagued by dreams of friends being hurt and the voice of his father calling out to him.

_Week Thirteen_

It turned out to be three days before Diego made his return known. The stable boy, Julio, was the first to spot him, walking along the road that ran in front of the hacienda. He wasn't sure who the stranger was that was coming toward the hacienda, so he ran to get Miguel. By the time Miguel returned with the boy, Diego was close enough to recognize and Miguel gave a shout of greeting before he sent Julio to spread the word among the other servants. When Diego stepped up to the door of the hacienda, there was a small crowd of de la Vega servants, tenants, and vaqueros there to greet him.

It took some time, but Diego patiently waded through the same questions he had gone through days earlier with Felipe. Maria, smiling broadly, finally shooed the servants back to their work and went to the kitchen where she immediately began working on a large celebratory dinner. Diego looked too thin to her and she wouldn't waste a moment before trying to fatten him up.

Felipe watched the whole thing from a distance unnoticed by the other servants. He watched Diego as the tall caballero took in the questions and slaps on the back and general happiness that his return had caused. But Felipe was acutely aware that while the servants seemed overjoyed to see Diego, Diego himself seemed…reserved. It wasn't enough to make the others notice, but Felipe saw it in the stiffness of Diego's shoulders, the fact that he didn't smile, the short, precise answers to questions. He wasn't the same Diego he had been over three months ago.

It was another day before word began to spread in the pueblo that Diego was back. A few friends and fellow dons stopped by the hacienda to pay their respects, but Diego did not venture out of the hacienda unless he was riding with the vaqueros, and even then, he stayed on de la Vega lands. Felipe kept expecting Diego to want to go into the pueblo, at least to see Senorita Victoria, but he never did. Instead, Diego immersed himself in the rancho, spending the bulk of the day with Miguel and the vaqueros and the evenings pouring over the books, catching up on the business side of things. At night, he went out as Zorro, beginning the long process of capturing the bandits that seemed to be plaguing the pueblo since Zorro had disappeared four months ago.

On his fourth day back, Victoria finally appeared at the hacienda door. She, like Felipe, had expected Diego to come into the pueblo, but had finally given up waiting. She had questions that needed to be answered and had a feeling that Diego was the only one who could answer them.

Zorro had not returned to the tavern, even though she knew he had been in the pueblo at some point, because more bandits kept turning up at the cuartel gates. The alcalde was fuming, but had so far left her alone. But that didn't explain either Diego or Zorro's absence.

She waited impatiently after knocking on the door. The day was cloudy and cool, but the rain had held off so far. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she waited. After a moment, she reached up to knock again, but as she did so, the door swung open and a startled Diego looked out at her.

"Victoria," he said after he had recovered from his shock. "I'm sorry for the delay, I thought Felipe was…well, I'm sorry."

Victoria gave him a small smile as she stepped past him and into the hacienda at his gesture. They looked at each other expectantly, but it was Victoria that finally broke the silence.

"You're back," she said simply.

"So it would seem," Diego said quietly. He realized his mistake immediately and his eyes shot to Victoria's wide ones.

Victoria's eyes locked onto Diego's as her mind worked frantically. Diego had used the exact words Zorro had used a week ago. Could it just be a coincidence?

"Diego-"

"Would you like something to drink? Some water or juice?" Diego interrupted.

"No, I'm fine."

Again, she eyed Diego warily. She followed him as he led her into the library and offered her chair. He sat down next to her. Her eyes took him in while she tried to sort out her thoughts. He was leaner than he had been before, and his eyes held none of the simple joy and curiosity that he had had four months ago. In fact, he looked a little…tired.

"You've been gone a long time," she finally said.

He nodded. "It couldn't be helped."

Victoria's brow knitted. That was a strange answer. "You could have left some word, you know. I was worried."

Diego drew in a deep breath. "I should have, yes. I'm sorry for worrying you, but…I couldn't explain to you something I couldn't even explain to myself, at the time."

Again, an odd choice of words. "Where did you go?"

This time she only received a shrug in reply.

"You don't know?"

"Does it matter where I was, Victoria? I couldn't be here anymore, so I left."

His voice was quiet with a bit of sadness, and Victoria realized he must have been experiencing a great deal of pain, both mental and physical, to leave the way he did. She wondered if the reason he left was to mourn his father in private. She tried to calm her pounding heart.

"Diego, there is something I have to ask you."

Diego swallowed hard as he waited.

"That day, when I woke up after being shot, you said Zorro was a part of the past."

Diego nodded.

"Why did you say that? How did you know he was gone?"

Diego drew in a breath, his eyes on the floor. When he looked back up, he did not look at Victoria, but beyond her, toward the large fireplace.

"You weren't supposed to get hurt, Victoria. He failed to protect you. He couldn't let that happen again." _Won't let it happen again_, he added to himself.

"Failed?" Victoria scoffed. "I would take that bullet again if it meant saving Zorro's life. And not just because of how I feel about…him. Zorro is about more than just protecting me, Diego. He protects everyone, from the dons to the peons to the Indians. He speaks for them when they cannot speak for themselves."

Diego shook his head, "You don't understand-"

Victoria reached out to cup his face with both hands. Diego's eyes refocused on hers. "I think maybe for the first time…I do understand, Diego," she said softly.

Their eyes were locked and for a moment she thought Diego was going to lean in and kiss her, but the front door opening interrupted them and Victoria's hands fell away from his face.

Felipe strode through the door, but stopped when he saw Victoria and Diego together. He immediately knew he had interrupted something, but didn't have time to sign an apology before Victoria stood. She put a comforting hand on Diego's shoulder before she turned to go.

"I'm glad you are back, Diego, and that you are well. I hope I will see you in the pueblo soon." She didn't wait for a reply, instead turned to go, giving Felipe a sad smile as she passed him.

Felipe stood in stunned silence for a moment. He looked at Diego, but could not read his expression. Slowly, he reached out to touch Diego's arm, getting Diego's attention before he signed a question.

"I…she just dropped by to say hello, Felipe."

Felipe drew a 'Z' in the air and pointed at Diego.

Diego shrugged. "I have no idea if she knows Zorro's identity." He looked toward the closed door. "I'm not sure it even matters anymore." He turned away and left the room before Felipe could form a response.


	11. Chapter 11

The following day, Diego received another unexpected visitor. Alcalde Luis Ramon rode up to the de la Vega hacienda, Sergeant Mendoza following reluctantly behind. As Ramon dismounted, Mendoza lingered on his horse.

"I think I should wait here, alcalde. Keep an eye on the horses."

"Coward," Ramon muttered under his breath as he marched up to the door and knocked.

Felipe answered the door and scowled when he saw who it was. Resisting the urge to slam the door in the man's face, he reluctantly motioned the alcalde inside. Diego had been sitting in the library and had a similar scowl as he came into the entryway and saw who it was.

"De la Vega. I heard that you had returned," the alcalde said without the hint of a smile. "I thought we would have seen you in town by now."

Diego said nothing, as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the alcalde to get to the point of his visit.

"Of course, after what happened the last time you visited our little pueblo, no one could blame you for being…hesitant to return." This time there was a hint of a gloating smile on Ramon's face.

Felipe took an angry step forward, but Diego thrust the book he had been reading into the boy's chest, halting his progress. "Felipe, why don't you go into the kitchen and see if Maria needs any help?" he said, motioning with his hands but keeping his eyes glued to the alcalde.

Felipe took the book and reluctantly backed away, retreating slowly around the corner that lead to the kitchen. But he halted there, listening to the conversation in the entryway.

Diego took a step closer to the alcalde. "What do you want here, alcalde?"

Ramon still had his smile. "Come now, Diego, you know it is my responsibility to make sure my subjects…I mean the citizens under my care, are safe."

"And?" Diego said, taking another step toward the alcalde. They were practically nose to nose.

"It is a responsibility I take very seriously," Ramon said. He was suddenly growing uncomfortable and took a step backwards, only to bump against the wall. "And as such," he went on, "I am here to…recommend…that you stay out of the pueblo. For your own good, you understand."

"For my own good," Diego repeated. He turned away from the alcalde, who immediately relaxed slightly.

"Am I making myself clear, de la Vega?" the alcalde said as he tugged at one of his gloves.

Diego spun around like lightning and his right hand shot forward, gripping the alcalde by the neck. He pushed the alcalde against the wall and began to squeeze. Ramon's face went a shade of purple as his hands clawed at Diego's, but the caballero's grip did not lessen. In fact, he put even more pressure on the other man, lifting him off his feet by a full inch. Ramon's hands flailed at Diego's to no avail.

"Now let me tell you something, alcalde. I will keep clear of the pueblo…for now. But you had better take a piece of my advice as well. Don't even think of stepping a foot in this hacienda again, or even in the vicinity of this hacienda. If you do, I will kill you."

Diego released the alcalde abruptly and the man nearly collapsed in relief, drawing deep, gasping breaths as he turned shocked eyes on Diego.

"Do you understand me, alcalde?" Diego growled in a familiar deep voice, his eyes angry.

Ramon's hand went to his sword, but Diego's again shot out and gripped the alcalde's wrist with surprising force. Ramon's eyes went wide.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, alcalde," Diego said as he squeezed.

Ramon gasped in pain. This wasn't how he had envisioned this visit going. When the pressure on his wrist increased, he nodded.

Diego released the alcalde once more. "I trust you know your way out," he said as he turned his back on Ramon.

For a moment, Ramon looked as if he would still draw his sword, but the pain in his neck and his wrist made him think twice. He spun around and stumbled from the hacienda.

Diego rubbed his right hand absently as he turned toward the library. He spotted Felipe lingering in the hallway to the kitchen. He shot the boy an angry look before he went down the opposite hall to his room.

Felipe had no idea what to do. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He had never seen Diego display such anger and act so openly against the alcalde, even in private. He rubbed his own neck as he went to the window and watched the alcalde and Mendoza ride off toward the pueblo. He didn't think this was over by any means. The alcalde did not like being threatened.

For the first time since Diego had returned, Felipe felt that something was very, very wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

_Week Fifteen_

Felipe was worried. It was a near constant state for him lately. Since the alcalde's visit, Diego was as good as his word, not venturing to the pueblo even once. If there was something he needed, he sent Felipe to get it. He continued to ride with the vaquero's daily and at night Zorro would ride and round up bandits. Twice Zorro had broken into the alcalde's office, taking tax money that the alcalde had collected illegally and returned it to the people. He never lingered long in the pueblo and was very careful to avoid being seen near the tavern. On the rare occasions he rode during the day, he did not look at or acknowledge Victoria in any way. Felipe knew from his visits to the pueblo that it was leading to a lot of gossip, not to mention the hurt he saw on Victoria's face every time he came to the pueblo.

Zorro had cleaned up the most bandits in the last two weeks and new ones stopped coming as word of Zorro's return spread. However, they never stayed in the jail for long. The alcalde let most of them go after a day or two, with the excuse that the jail was too full. Felipe guessed that it was more about keeping Zorro busy catching bandits so that he would not have the time to interfere with any of the alcalde's plans.

A worse worry was that the alcalde had twice increased the reward on Zorro's head. It now stood at eight thousand pesos. The reward was beginning to draw the attention of bounty hunters. As far as Felipe was concerned, they were worse than the bandits. The reward was for Zorro dead or alive, and most bounty hunters knew that Zorro would be easier to bring in dead. So far, there had not been any problems that Zorro couldn't handle, but much to Felipe's astonishment, one of the bounty hunters had been killed.

Felipe wasn't sure on the details, Diego had brushed him off each time he had asked, but from the gossip in the pueblo, he had learned that a group of three bounty hunters had tried to work together to get Zorro. They had set up an ambush just outside of the pueblo, but Zorro had sprung the trap using an old trick of sending Tornado ahead with a couple of twigs covered by Zorro's cape. All three of the men shot at the decoy and did not have time to reload before the real Zorro was on them. Two of them were dispatched easily, but the third put up a fight, and was fairly good with a sword. The fight didn't last long, however, due to a solid kick to the ribs from Zorro. The man flew backwards, tripped over some rocks, and hit his head solidly another. He never regained consciousness and had died the next day.

Zorro wasn't Felipe's only source of worry, though. In the past, Diego had always kept Felipe informed of what Zorro was doing, even letting Felipe help in small ways. Now, however, Diego rarely spoke to Felipe about Zorro's actions, and never allowed Felipe to help, outside of taking care of Tornado.

As far as his studies went, Diego simply gave Felipe an assignment to work on, then disappeared to work on something else on his own. And Diego never ate dinner in the dining room anymore, either. He either ate in the kitchen, with Felipe and the other servants, or more often, ate alone, in his room.

And then there were the disappearances. Every few days or so, Diego would be gone before dawn, always taking Tornado, but never taking any of Zorro's things. Just this morning, Felipe had tried to follow Diego when he left at dawn, but Diego seemed to know Felipe was there and kicked Tornado into a run that Felipe had no hope of catching. He had returned to the hacienda tired and frustrated.

None of this would be so bad if Felipe could just get Diego to talk. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, when he and Diego could sit down and discuss the things that were going on in the world around them. More than anything, Felipe wished he had a voice. If he had a voice, Diego would not be able to brush him off, simply by turning away. If Felipe had a voice, Diego would have to listen.

As he paced the library, rubbing the back of his neck absently, it occurred to Felipe that there was only one other person who could possibly understand what he was going through. There was one person who would listen to him. With a deep sigh, Felipe went to the stables to saddle his pony.

_ZZZ_

It was well into night when Diego looked through the viewing hole from the cave into the library. As he expected, there was no one around at this late hour. He rubbed at his right hand absently as he took a relieved breath. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to the quiet comfort of his room, with the hope that he was tired enough to sleep soundly, without the interruption of the usual dreams.

He had worked at his training camp most of the day, using the sheer physical exertion to clear his mind. Afterwards, he had come gone out as Zorro, as usual. He had returned to the hacienda and made his change quickly, hoping to avoid Felipe. He hated having to hide his activities from the boy, but he would not take the chance of Felipe getting mixed up in Zorro's business. He didn't want the same thing that happened to Victoria to happen to Felipe. If that meant cutting Felipe out of Zorro's life the way he had to cut Victoria out, then so be it. Felipe would be unhappy, but at least he would be alive.

Truth be told, it was tearing him up inside, not to confide in the boy. Until now, Diego had not realized what a relief it was to have at least one person that knew his secret. Having to keep the secret of Zorro from his father was one of the hardest things Diego had ever had to do. But it had helped to talk to Felipe, to use him as a sounding board for his fears and frustrations.

And then there was Victoria. He thought about her every day and longed not only to not see her, to talk to her, but to hold her the way he used to. Before, when Zorro could not see Victoria, he had still been able to visit her in the tavern as Diego. He had found a tolerable balance between the two lives that had allowed him to still be near her. Now, though, the danger was too great, and he refused to put her at risk, even though it pained him to not be able to see her.

With a deep sigh, Diego ran a hand through his hair as he stepped through the door at the back of the fireplace into the library. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to his room where he hoped to fall into a deep, and dreamless, sleep.

The sharp intake of a breath stopped Diego short. He turned toward the sound and had to suppress his own shock when he saw Victoria sitting in a chair in the only corner of the library that was not visible from the viewing hole. It was a problem he had meant to fix several times, but had never found the time. He suddenly wished he had made some.

Victoria's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Instead, she looked toward the fireplace, then Diego, and back to the fireplace.

"Victoria," Diego said quietly. "I can explain…" Even as he said it, he wasn't sure how he would.

Victoria's eyes lingered on the fireplace. She seemed to make up her mind about something as gave a small nod.

"I thought…it occurred to me that you might be…but I thought maybe I was imagining things." She looked up at Diego. "I guess I knew when you got back, I just didn't want to admit it to myself."

Diego had it on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but he suddenly felt very tired, and didn't want to summon the strength to deny what they both knew. He looked over at the fireplace, then held a hand out for Victoria, who took it reluctantly, with brows narrowed in question.

He led her to the fireplace.

"Diego…"

"You've seen this much, you may as well see the rest."

Diego pushed the panel on the mantel that opened the secret door, then led Victoria through and into the secret cave. Once inside, he let go of her hand as her wide eyes scanned the room and took everything in. They did not speak as she walked over to the rack that held Zorro's clothes, then the sword, and finally over to Tornado, who tossed his head in greeting before going back to his oats.

Can I ask you a question, Diego?" she asked as she continued her tour of the room.

"Yes."

"Why don't you come to the pueblo anymore?"

"I do. I was just there-"

"No, not Zorro. You. Diego. You don't come to the pueblo."

Diego nodded. "I…I can't."

"There was a rumor, that the alcalde threatened you…"

Diego scoffed. "It has nothing to do with the alcalde." He stopped and looked over at her. His lips were drawn in a grim line as he shook his head. "Actually, it does, but not because of any pathetic threats he made. It's…I don't go to the pueblo, Victoria, because I'm not sure I could do so without killing him."

Victoria's eyes went wide. "What do you mean?"

Diego paced in front of Tornado's stall. "He came to the hacienda, after I had returned. He marched into my home, Victoria, with a smug grin and…I wanted to kill him then and there. It took everything in me, not to do it." He turned back to her and she could see the pain and anger in his eyes. "I'm afraid that if I go to the pueblo as Diego, I won't be able to stop myself a second time."

Victoria swallowed around the lump in her throat. She wasn't sure what answer she expected, but that wasn't it.

The silence stretched on between them. Diego came back to the worktable where she stood and looked down at her.

"So, why are you here?" Diego asked quietly.

Victoria gave him a blank stare, as if she had completely forgotten why she was at his home.

"It's late, Victoria, you shouldn't be out alone at this time of night," he prompted.

She shook herself, to clear the confusion she was feeling. "It was still light when I got here. Besides, it's important." She locked eyes with Diego and he could see the worry there.

"What is it? Has something happened?" His eyes flicked to Zorro's clothes. He had been in the pueblo earlier as Zorro, to leave a pair of bandits at the cuartel gates, and hadn't noticed any problems.

Victoria shook her head. "No, nothing like that."

Diego let out a breath as he nodded. "Then what is it?"

"I need to talk to you about Felipe."

Diego immediately stiffened. He hadn't seen Felipe since the night before, but he assumed Felipe was busy his own chores and lessons.

"He's fine, Diego, but he isn't here."

"Where is he?" His voice took the familiar edge of Zorro's voice and sent shiver along Victoria's spine.

"He's at the tavern." Victoria saw the relief in Diego's eyes. "He came to see me earlier today. He was upset and needed someone to talk to." She shifted uncomfortably. "I guess he knew I would understand what he was going through. He…asked if he could stay at the tavern for a little while."

To Victoria's surprise, Diego seemed to take the request in stride. He nodded as he walked over to Tornado's stall. He rubbed at his stiff right hand as he thought.

"You don't seem surprised."

Diego shook his head. "It may be for the best, Victoria."

Victoria's jaw fell open. "For the best? How can you say that? That boy worships you, Diego. He is so full of worry and fear for you-"

"I know, Victoria," Diego interrupted. "But things are likely to get…worse, before they get any better. Felipe may be safer away from me. You both may."

"What do you mean?"

"The alcalde," Diego said with another sigh. "He won't give up without a fight. If Zorro keeps pushing him, he'll just come up with something else to satisfy his greed. And when that fails, he'll try something else."

Victoria waited for him to go on, but he just shrugged and turned away. "And when will it end, Diego?" He didn't respond so she reached out to grab his arm, turning him back to face her. "When one of you is dead?"

Diego's eyes flicked to the floor. Neither of them seemed willing to voice what they truly felt; that Zorro would have to kill the alcalde in order for the pueblo to be free. He let the silence between them linger before he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You should tell Felipe not to worry."

"Diego, he's going to worry, he loves you." She hesitated before going on. "We both do."

Diego shook his head. There was a time when he would have rejoiced to hear Victoria say that. But not now. Not when her love could get her killed. "You don't understand, Victoria."

"Then help me to understand. Help us to understand." She reached out to take his right hand, the one he kept rubbing. She massaged the back of his hand with her thumbs, then flipped it over and did the same on the palm. At first he winced in pain, but as she continued to rub, he seemed to relax somewhat. He leaned toward her, but before their lips met, Diego pulled away.

"You don't love me, Victoria," he said sadly, his voice no more than a whisper. "You love a fairy tale."

Victoria sucked in a surprised breath. "What do you mean?"

"The Zorro you love was a fairy tale. One of my own making, I know. I thought Zorro could help, I thought I could do what needed to be done and no one would be hurt. But I was wrong."

"Diego, I made the choice to step in front of that bullet. That wasn't Zorro's fault!"

"Wasn't it? Victoria, I failed to protect you, to protect my father and Don Carlos, the whole pueblo! I never should have started this-"

"No!" Victoria said, her voice heated. "Don't you dare say that, Diego. Zorro has meant everything to this pueblo, to me. You can't control everything and everyone, any more than you can be everywhere. I make my own choices-" Victoria stopped mid-sentence a new thought hitting her like a blow. "This isn't about me is it?"

Diego turned pain filled eyes away from her, but she reached out to grab his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. "Oh, Diego. This is about your father."

Diego tried to pull away again, but Victoria held firm.

"Your father made his own choice, too, Diego. He chose to face Bishop. What happened wasn't your fault."

"I should have saved him, Victoria. Zorro should have-" He halted what he was going to say with a shake of his head. When he went on, his voice was quiet, resigned. "I let him believe a lie, Victoria. I let both of you believe in a lie!"

"Diego, I don't believe in lies. But I do believe in you."

She pulled Diego in for a kiss. When their lips met, she felt all resistance leave him as his arms came around her.

Diego pulled her in closer and the kiss deepened. When he finally released her, his eyes met hers. "Victoria, please," he whispered.

She didn't respond, only pulled him in for another kiss. She had seen the pain in his eyes and wanted nothing more than to help him heal, to fix whatever it was that was broken inside of him. She didn't know how to do that, but she had a pretty good idea of where to start. She let her body melt into his as he trailed kisses along her jaw. When his lips returned to hers, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back toward the hacienda.


	13. Chapter 13

_Week Sixteen_

Felipe lay on his bed at the tavern, hands clasped behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. A soft breeze came through the open window, ruffling the curtains. He was tired after a busy day helping out at the tavern, but his mind wouldn't let him relax enough to go to sleep. He liked staying at the tavern and helping Victoria, but he was feeling some level of guilt over leaving the hacienda. He had left in such a rush that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to anyone. And though he dreaded doing it, he wanted a chance to talk to Diego, to explain why he had left.

As he lay in the darkness weighing his options, an image of Don Alejandro came into Felipe's mind. He wished again that the man he had considered a second father, after Diego, was still alive to help him. When he was a small boy, he had been shy and quiet around the older don, but when Diego left for Spain, Felipe and Don Alejandro had become closer, developing their own special bond. While Don Alejandro had not been as good as Diego about interpreting Felipe's signs, the two of them managed to communicate pretty well.

A noise at the window brought Felipe's attention back to the present and he hastily wiped away the streaks of tears that had escaped at the memory of Don Alejandro. He watched as the curtains parted and a dark shape stepped into the room. Felipe knew immediately who it was and his heart beat a little faster. The shape moved closer, stopping near Felipe's bed. In the moonlight coming from the window, Felipe saw the familiar outline of Zorro.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Felipe shook his head. He slid to the side of the bed, giving Zorro enough room to sit down next to him.

Zorro returned the nod as he sat. He gave Felipe a quick once over, to make sure he was well, then put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier, but…" he let the thought trail off, but Felipe gave him a small smile to show that he understood. Zorro had been busy the last few nights.

"I wanted to tell you, Felipe, I'm glad you're here. Things may get a little…difficult, and I am glad you will be close to Victoria. I need someone besides Mendoza to keep an eye on her, make sure the alcalde doesn't try anything."

Felipe looked concerned as he made a few signs. The moonlight from the window provided enough light that Zorro could see the gestures.

"The alcalde is about to increase the reward he is offering for me," Zorro explained. "More than the last time. It will attract some less than desirable people to the pueblo."

Felipe's hands motioned again.

"I'll be careful, Felipe, but I'm more concerned about Victoria. Stay close to her, if you see anyone giving her problems, send word, or find Mendoza."

Felipe wanted to ask how Zorro knew the reward would be increased, but he had a feeling he didn't want to know. It would only make him worry that much more. With a grim look, he nodded at Zorro.

"Good," Zorro said as he rose.

Felipe hesitated, but reached out to touch Zorro's arm, getting his attention before asking a question with his hands.

Zorro looked surprised. "Am I angry? Why would I be angry?"

Felipe pointed to himself, then down at the bed.

Zorro shook his head sadly. "No, I'm not mad that you came to the tavern, Felipe. I understand, much more than you may think, why you couldn't stay. And I am glad you will be close to Victoria."

Feeling his heart beat in his chest, Felipe watched as Zorro disappeared through the window as quickly as he arrived.

_Week Seventeen, Day One_

Mendoza crept into the darkness of the small stable behind the tavern and pulled a small flask out of his tunic. He had found the flask two days ago buried under his spare shirts among his things. He had forgotten putting it there two months ago. When he found it, he had almost poured the amber liquid out onto the dirt, the warning from Zorro echoing in his mind. But for some reason he did not and now found himself hiding in a stable, trying to sneak a drink to calm his raging nerves.

The last week had seen a lot of changes in the small pueblo. Zorro, as active as ever, had stopped two floggings, a hanging, and had forced the alcalde to reverse a ridiculous 'child' tax, where he had taxed each family five pesos per child, and those without children were taxed twenty pesos. The alclade said they were not doing their duty to help populate the frontier by not having children. Even Mendoza could see how unfair and ridiculous the tax was, but the alcalde had instituted it anyway. Each time Zorro interfered, the alcalde raised the reward for the masked man's capture. The reward currently stood at an astounding twelve thousand pesos, an outrageous sum that Mendoza had no idea how the alcalde would ever pay.

All week, as the reward crept higher, more and more strangers had arrived in the pueblo, eager to try and capture the famous bandit and gather the reward. Most found very quickly that it was a task easier talked about than accomplished. Some, however, were the type of men that Mendoza knew would go to great lengths to get their hands on twelve thousand pesos. And they didn't particularly care who got in their way.

His hands shook as he put the flask to his lips. Before the liquid made it to his mouth, however, there was a loud snap and Mendoza felt the flask being torn from his hands. He nearly feinted when Zorro's voice came out of the darkness around him.

"I believe I warned you what would happen if I caught you drinking again, Mendoza."

Mendoza licked parched lips and said hopefully, "Si, but I didn't actually take a drink, senor Zorro. You took it before I could."

Zorro stepped into the doorway of the little stall, his whip in one hand and the flask in the other. "That is a fair point, Mendoza, but I think you understood the spirit of my threat."

Mendoza nodded nervously. "Si, but I…the alcalde is…and I needed…" He finally gave up and shrugged. "You are right Zorro. I let you down again. I am sorry."

Turning the flask upside down, Zorro let the liquid pour onto the ground before he tossed the empty flask back to Mendoza. He coiled his whip and replaced it on his belt.

"What has you so worried that you felt the need to drink, Sergeant?"

"Have you seen the reward on your head, Zorro?" Mendoza asked urgently. "The alcalde has put word out to every bounty hunter in the territory. He wants you captured, dead or alive."

"And?"

"And? And? What more does there need to be?" Mendoza tossed his hands in the air. "These men that are coming to Los Angeles, Zorro, they are mean. And greedy. Two traits that make me nervous. It is my job to keep order in the pueblo, but these men are making that job very difficult."

"Your job, Mendoza, is to keep Victoria safe. Let me worry about the rest."

Mendoza released a sigh. "I already spend as much time as possible at the tavern, Zorro. I eat all my meals there, even when I have to borrow money to do it. And when I have to go on patrol, I leave Corporal Sepulveda behind to keep an eye out. But all of these men, Zorro. I can't be everywhere."

Zorro almost smiled in the darkness, remembering when Victoria expressed a similar sentiment to him, not so long ago. When he responded, his voice was low. "Do your best, Mendoza, it is all I can ask."

"I know, Zorro, but…I wish…"

Zorro turned to go. "Don't lose faith, Mendoza. This won't go on much longer."

"How do you know that, Zorro?"

Zorro answered over his shoulder as he stepped away from the stall into the night. "Trust me."

Mendoza sighed. Trust him. It wasn't easy, as the alcalde got a little crazier every day. But if that's what Zorro wanted, Mendoza would indeed do his best.


	14. Chapter 14

_Week Seventeen, Day Three_

Victoria stood on the porch of the tavern, sweeping the ever-present dust. She thought she heard a shot from a gun and froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She couldn't help but worry with all of the bounty hunters around these days. When they weren't setting traps for Zorro, they were in her tavern, drinking, fighting, playing cards, and generally causing havoc. She had tried to limit the amount of alcohol she served to them, but all that usually did was cause even more problems.

Mendoza was doing all he could to keep the peace, but he got little to no support from the alcalde and he could only do so much. She was grateful for his help, and that of Felipe, but there were so many strangers around these days, so many men wanting to capture Zorro and collect the ridiculous reward, it was hard not to worry, to jump every time a gun went off.

Zorro, never one to shy away from a challenge, had started to vary his routine. Since his return, he had ridden mostly at night. Now, with so many bounty hunters trying to track his every move, he had begun showing up at odd times, day and night, as a means of discouraging any traps. It worked to an extent, but with so many bounty hunters out looking for him, it was inevitable that he would encounter one or two a day.

Why Zorro rode at all these days escaped Victoria. Most of the bandits were gone, and the bounty hunters, while rude, rowdy, and a general nuisance, would eventually go away if he would just stay away for a while. But there was something else driving Zorro these days, something that kept him riding every day, even when he wasn't necessarily needed.

Another shot brought Victoria's attention back to the present. Within moments, a pounding of hooves could be heard, followed by several horses running into the plaza. Victoria recognized two of the bounty hunters, even though they were slung over their saddles with a large 'Z' carved on their backsides. But it was the third horse that made Victoria draw in a surprised breath.

The third horse ran into the plaza, its eyes wide with fright. A rope trailed from the saddle horn to a ball of dust that was being dragged behind. It took a moment before Victoria realized that the ball of dust was actually a man.

"I believe these men belong to you alcalde," came the deep, angry voice of Zorro. Victoria, like everyone else in the plaza, had been so focused on the man being dragged behind his horse that they did not see Zorro enter the plaza. He sat on Tornado near the fountain, himself covered in dust and dirt, his shirt torn in the back. His hat was missing, but he held his sword at the ready. Victoria could see a trickle of sweat that ran down his face amid the dirt.

Zorro pointed his sword at the alcalde, Tornado dancing nervously. "You can hire as many bounty hunters as you like, alcalde. But at some point you will have to find enough courage to face me alone. I will be waiting." Without waiting for a response, Zorro turned Tornado and raced from the plaza.

Victoria forced herself to start breathing again as she watched Zorro race away. She could see the rage on the alcalde's face from her spot on the tavern porch.

A pair of lancers stopped the frightened horse and cautiously approached the man lying in the dirt behind it. With his boot, a lancer pushed at the ball of dust and was rewarded with a groan. They looked to the alcalde expectantly and one of them ran for the doctor at a wave from Ramon.

Felipe came out of the tavern and stepped next to Victoria. He made a small _'Z'_ in the air with his finger.

"Yes," she said sadly. She turned to look at Felipe. "You should go to him, Felipe. He looked…he looked like he could use some help."

Felipe looked concerned, but Victoria didn't elaborate. She turned and went back into the tavern, closing the door behind her.

Felipe hesitated as he watched the alcalde and the lancers cut free the men Zorro had brought in. Mendoza and some additional lancers came out of the cuartel, and the alcalde immediately ordered them after Zorro, though everyone watching knew the masked man was long gone. Within moments, Mendoza and his men were riding out of the pueblo. With a sigh, Felipe went to the stable to get his own pony, wondering what he would find when he got to the hacienda.

_ZZZ_

Zorro stiffly removed his dirty shirt, using it to wipe most of the grime from his face and chest. He was tired, sore and angry, though he would be hard pressed to say if he was angrier at himself for almost getting caught or the alcalde for inviting the bounty hunters in the first place. He threw the shirt toward the rack where his clean clothes hung in disgust.

It had been a very basic trap, and he had ridden right into it. He saw the first bounty hunter hiding, though not very well, behind a large boulder. A quick visual scan did not bring up any additional hunters, so Zorro circled around the man, coming at him from behind. He had been about to confront the bounty hunter when he felt two lassos come around his chest. Before he could react, he was pulled from Tornado's saddle into the dirt. He was dragged for several feet before he could get his feet under him, but his hands were pinned to his sides and he had no chance to get to his sword before the three men were on him. Another rope came around him, and Zorro was pushed onto is knees in the dirt, his sword and knife tossed away to the side.

The three men immediately fell into arguing about how they were going to take Zorro into the pueblo. One of them wanted to shoot him first, since the reward was for Zorro dead or alive. The second wanted to unmask him first, but the third, obviously the leader, wanted to drag him into the pueblo behind his horse.

While the three argued, Zorro calmly worked at the ropes, first shifting his arms enough to get enough room that his hands were free, then starting in on the knots. He had the first one undone and was working on the second when the leader effectively ended the argument by tying the end of the rope that still held Zorro around the saddle horn of his horse, mounting, and gouging the horse with his spurs.

Zorro had no more time as he was jerked away, the rope tightening around his chest as he was dragged away. Dust clouded around him and stung his eyes, gravel and rocks digging into his back and arms as he tried to spin himself around. If he could dig his heels in, and get his head above the dust so that he could see, he might be able to slow the horse enough to give himself a chance.

He felt his hat fly off and was grateful the mask stayed in place. He could hear the pounding of horse's hooves and knew the two bounty hunters were following close behind. But a familiar whiny also reached his ears and he felt the rope around him suddenly go slack as Tornado barreled into the leader's horse, momentarily stopping their progress.

As he slid to a stop, Zorro jumped to his feet, his hands finding the remaining knot and making quick work of it. The rope had frayed slightly as he was dragged, making his escape that much easier. When he looked up, one of the men following was almost on him and he had to duck as the man flew by on his horse, swinging his sword in an arc as he did so. The sword was met by nothing but air and the man had to jerk his horse to a stop. The second man brought his horse to a stop, but was unable to do more before Zorro caught him and pulled him from the saddle. A quick punch knocked the man out but sent sparks of pain along Zorro's hand. With his left, he pulled the unconscious man's sword, spinning in time to meet the second charge of the other man.

The bounty hunter tried to run Zorro down with his horse, but Zorro easily slid to the side and used his borrowed sword to send a stinging slap to the horse's rump, causing the animal to rear in pain. The man lost his seat, falling into the dirt, and Zorro brought a knee up into the man's chin and the bounty fell back into the dirt, unconscious.

The leader had finally managed to extricate his horse from the raging Tornado, and returned to help his companions, sliding from the saddle, his sword at the ready. He gave Zorro an angry grin as he swung his arm in a cross pattern before him, the sword whistling through the air.

Zorro resisted rolling his eyes as he switched the sword to his right hand. He waited for the bounty hunter to make the first move, blocked each attempt to dismember him, and waited until he spotted his opening. It didn't take long. After one particularly wild swing, Zorro moved in and bound the other man's sword before flicking his wrist and sending the sword flying away.

With an angry grunt the man swung a fist at Zorro, but the masked man ducked easily under it, and came up with a swing of his own. His left fist met with the man's jaw, following it up with two quick jabs of his right, ignoring the flash of pain it caused. The other man collapsed into the dirt.

Now, as he stood in the cave cursing himself for his carelessness, Zorro looked down at his right hand. His knuckles were bruised and swollen, and he couldn't ball his fist without pain. He sighed.

A noise from the stairs leading the hacienda brought Zorro's attention around. His jaw clenched as he saw Felipe enter the cave. They stood in silence for a moment before Zorro gave him a small nod, pulling the mask off as he turned to the work table and poured some water into a bowl. He splashed it onto his face, running his hands through his sweaty hair.

"I suppose Victoria sent you?" he asked as Felipe stepped up next to him, handing him a towel.

Felipe nodded and signed a question for Diego.

"I'm fine, just bruised."

Felipe shook his head. _'More than a bruise'_ he signed pointing at Diego's back. Diego put hand to his back and winced as he felt the deep scratches there. In the rush to get the bounty hunters tied, he had forgotten about his back and it had faded into numbness. He was somewhat surprised to feel the dried blood around the scratches, but shrugged at Felipe.

He finished cleaning up and Felipe took the dirty water to the cave entrance to toss it away as Diego finished changing his clothes. When he returned, he noticed Diego fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and pointed at Diego's hand. _'It's broke again,'_ he signed. Diego didn't respond as he let Felipe examine it closer.

"It probably didn't heal from the…last time," Diego said. His eyes didn't meet Felipe's. They both knew what time he was referring to and preferred not to think about it.

Felipe signed that he could wrap the hand, but Diego shook his head. "It will be fine."

_'Not if you keep hitting people with it'_ Felipe signed. He gave Diego a slight grin, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Diego felt some of the tension leave his body. "I'll see what I can do about that."

Together they spent some time feeding and tending to Tornado and in the end, Diego did let the boy wrap his hand. He had even taken a few sips of the cactus tea that Felipe insisted he drink. He knew he was going to be stiff and sore in the morning, and if the tea helped him get a dreamless night's sleep, then it was worth avoiding the argument.

After an hour or so, Felipe motioned that he should be getting back to the tavern. Diego nodded. He watched Felipe walk to the stairs, but before he could reach the top, Diego called out. "Felipe."

Felipe turned back to his friend and mentor.

"Thank you."

Felipe gave him a nod and smile before he turned and went up the stairs. Diego watched him leave, and dropped into his desk chair when he was alone. He looked down at his freshly bandaged hand, and shook his head. After a few minutes of silence, he got up and went into the hacienda.


	15. Chapter 15

_Week Twenty_

Victoria rubbed her forehead as she read the letter in her hand for the third time. Her hand trembled slightly as her eyes scanned down the page. When she reached the end, she crumpled the paper in her hand, stuffing it into a pocket of the apron she still wore from serving lunch. She rose and left the privacy of her room, dabbing at her eyes before she entered the tavern.

Felipe was sweeping the tavern floor and Pilar was cleaning the bar, carrying a stack of dirty dishes into the kitchen as she gave Victoria a nod of greeting. Pilar's smile died quickly as she saw the strange look on Victoria's face, but she did not stop to ask as Victoria shook her head.

Felipe looked up from his sweeping as Victoria approached him.

"Felipe, would you mind readying my wagon for me? I have an errand I must run."

Felipe looked at her carefully. In the past few weeks, he had watched the sadness and exhaustion slowly take her over, but today seemed worse. Her eyes were red rimmed and the dark circles that had begun to show under her eyes were even more pronounced today. Concerned, he patted his own chest and then pointed back to Victoria.

"No, Felipe, I do not need you to go with me. I must do this alone."

Felipe was still concerned, but he nodded. He looked over at the curtain to be sure Pilar was not returning and signed a small 'Z' in the air.

Victoria nodded as Felipe saw tears forming in her eyes. "I need to talk to him, Felipe. It's important."

Felipe swallowed the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew Victoria would be safe enough at the hacienda, but he could tell from the look on her face that whatever it was she needed to speak to Diego about, it wasn't good. He gave her a nod as he hurried from the room to prepare the wagon.

As he worked, he thought about Victoria and what might be worrying her. He knew that Zorro's lack of acknowledgement of her, and Diego's distance were bothering her, but he wasn't sure how he could help. He was feeling the sting of Diego's rejection himself. Since Felipe had gone to the cave to help Zorro three weeks ago, he had not seen Diego. As usual, Diego did not venture into the pueblo, not even to attend church on Sunday. The one time Felipe had gone to the hacienda, Diego had been absent and none of the servants seemed to know where he was.

But it was clear now that something serious was bothering Victoria. Felipe could only hope that the visit to Diego would help relieve some of the worry that was plainly written on Victoria's face. He sent a silent prayer skyward, asking that Diego would finally listen to the senorita and they could work through whatever was bothering them both. The wagon ready, Felipe slowly retraced his steps into the tavern.

_ZZZ_

The sun was beginning to disappear under the horizon when Diego rode into the cave. Tornado tossed his head as Diego dismounted, the horse's feet shifting nervously. Diego paid little attention, murmuring words of comfort as he moved around tiredly. He was wearing the black pants customary of Zorro, but the shirt, mask, and cape were in their normal places, untouched. He had spent the entire day at his training camp, working out his anger and frustration. He would probably still be there, if it weren't for the dark, ominous clouds that had begun forming to the west.

He did not look around as he unsaddled and took care of Tornado, the whole time murmuring to the horse. After some time, Tornado seemed to settle down, and Diego moved into the main room of the cave. His head was down as he moved to replace the sword he had used during his workout, but when he finally looked up, he stopped in his tracks. He suddenly realized he wasn't alone in the cave as his eyes took in the figure across the room.

Victoria sat at his desk, asleep in the chair. Zorro's cape was wrapped around her arms and torso, protection against the chill of the cave. Her hair fell over her shoulder in curly waves that made Diego ache to reach out and touch it. Quietly, he put Zorro's sword in its customary place and moved to stand over Victoria. He watched her in silence for several minutes before he finally crouched down next to her and reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm.

"Victoria," he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

He only partially succeeded. The light touch on her arm rather than his voice woke her, and her eyes flew open as she jumped slightly.

"Oh, Diego." She looked around as she took in her surroundings, remembering where she was. "You're back."

Diego nodded as he stood.

"What time is it?" Victoria asked as she wiped a hand across her eyes.

"After dark," Diego said. "How long have you been waiting?"

"A while. Pilar is probably wondering what happened to me." Victoria rose from the chair to stand next to Diego.

Diego again had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. Instead, he turned away, moving to stand near his work table, putting some distance between them. "I assume there is a reason why you are waiting for me."

"Yes. I need to speak with you, Diego."

He toyed with some of the jars, beakers and tubes that sat unused on the table. "About?"

Victoria moved closer to him. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, Diego."

Diego did not respond, waiting for her to go on, but he felt the muscles of his stomach tense.

"It wasn't easy, but I've made a decision." She watched Diego closely and for the first time seemed to notice how tired he looked. It was a weariness that was mirrored in her own face, she knew. For a moment she hesitated, but took a deep breath and plunged on. She pulled the letter from her pocket and held it in a tightly clenched fist. "Diego, I am leaving Los Angeles. I'm going to Mexico City to stay with Ramon."

Outwardly, Diego did not react, but inside, he felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. His mind was spinning and he was unsure what to say, but knew she was waiting for him to say something.

"I wrote to Ramon, after you disappeared," she went on, annoyed at his silence. "I…I wasn't sure if or when you would be back and I wasn't sure I wanted to stay in Los Angeles without you, without Zorro, so I wrote and asked him if I could come for a visit. His reply finally came yesterday. He not only wants me to come for a visit, he wants me to stay. Francisco is still in the south, but Ramon has married and says he and his wife would love to have me closer. He wants me to sell the tavern and move to Mexico permanently."

Diego felt ill. He wanted to sit, to let his head clear, but he also wanted to turn around, mount Tornado and run as far from here as he possibly could. "Why?" he heard himself ask numbly. It wasn't what he really wanted to say, but he couldn't get his mind to work properly.

Victoria shook her head sadly. "Do you really need to ask me that?" she asked. She waited for Diego to say something, but at his silence she let some of her frustrations go, and her voice took on an angry edge. "When you came back, do you remember what you said to me, Diego? You said you couldn't be here anymore so you left. Well, perhaps I feel the same way."

Diego did not like having his own words thrown back at him and his brow narrowed. "That was different, Victoria and you know it."

"Oh, Diego," she said, her anger receding only to be replaced by sadness. "I can't stay here and watch some random bounty hunter kill you. Or watch you slowly kill yourself trying to stop an alcalde that won't be stopped. The end result is the same, and I have no desire to stay and watch you die."

Diego shook his head. "I'm not dying, Victoria."

Victoria gave him a bitter smile. "Aren't you? You can't keep on this way for long Diego. Already you are beginning to make mistakes, take chances you never would have taken before all this started."

Diego started to protest, but Victoria held up a hand. "Don't try to deny it Diego. You know I'm right. You were almost captured three weeks ago. And last week, that lancer very nearly shot you. If it weren't for Mendoza bumping into him and ruining his aim, you could very well be dead."

"Is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

"I don't think so, Diego," she said very quietly.

"When?"

Victoria shrugged. "I'm not sure. I would have to arrange for the sale of the tavern, and for my things to be shipped." She hesitated as she looked up at Diego. "Diego…I want to ask Felipe to come with me."

Diego's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

There was a stool next to the worktable and Victoria sank onto it gratefully. "Oh, Diego," she said sadly. "You barely speak to either one of us. He's tried so hard to understand, but I can see the hurt written on his face every day. Oh, I know he won't leave, he's much too loyal to you for that. The fact that he has stayed at the tavern as long as he has surprises me."

Diego felt his world shift and he reached a hand out to the table, to steady himself. He shook his head trying to clear it. "What if I said you can't go? That I won't let either of you go?"

Victoria gave him a sad shake of her head. "I do not think you will do that, Diego. Right now you are in shock and it hurts. But when you have time to think, you will see that I am right."

There was silence between them as Diego stared at her. He frantically tried to think of something, of anything, that would convince her to stay, but all he could think about was that he was losing her. Even if he could somehow convince her to marry him, he knew they would destroy each other with worry. He would be constantly worrying about her safety, and she would worry every time he left the cave as Zorro. It would not work, no matter how much he may want it to. His heart sank as he turned away from her.

Victoria could see he had accepted her argument by the way his shoulders sagged. It made her heart want to burst.

"It's my fault, really," she said quietly. "I thought I could help you heal. I thought I could help you heal, Diego. But I was wrong. Whatever it is that is broken inside of you, it is more than I can do to help."

Diego did not respond, his back to her. He felt as though the world had just opened up and swallowed him. He wanted to yell, to tell her that she couldn't go, that she was wrong, but in the end, he knew she was right.

He listened as soft footsteps retreated up the stairs. They stopped near the top.

"I'm sorry, Diego."

He did not need to turn to look to know that she was crying. He stared blankly at the cave wall as his own tears fell.


	16. Chapter 16

Padre Benitez could hear the rain falling as he roused himself from a warm bed. The pounding at the door continued and he mumbled to himself, "Patience is a virtue that my unknown visitor would do well to learn." He stumbled in the darkness, his toe connecting solidly with a table in the hallway and he mumbled under his breath again.

When he finally limped to the door, the pounding was getting louder, more desperate. The padre pulled open the door to find a soaking wet caballero at his door.

"Don Diego! What on earth-"

"Padre," Diego interrupted in desperation. "Forgive the late hour, but you must help me."

The pain in his toe forgotten, the padre did not hesitate, beckoning the younger man inside and practically pushing him down the hall into a small room that looked like an office. There was a fireplace, but only warm coals remained.

One of the Indians that stayed at the mission full time stumbled into the hall, rubbing his eyes. "Padre, what is it? Who was at the door?"

Padre Benitez waived the man away. "Go back to bed, Josef, I can take care of our guest."

The man hesitated only a moment. The wet caballero did not seem to pose a danger to the good padre, so he turned around and re-traced his steps back to his room. Padre Benitez entered the office behind Diego in time to see the younger man shiver. "Diego, sit down while I find something dry for you to change into." He stoked the fire back to life and left the room to find something warm for Diego. When he returned a moment later with a pair of blankets, he found Diego still standing in the middle of the room, a dazed look on his face and water pooling on the floor around him. He thrust the blankets into Diego's hands with orders to remove his wet clothes and to sit by the fire. As the caballero moved to remove his wet, cold shirt, the padre disappeared once more. This time he headed for the kitchen in hopes of finding something warm to drink.

Not finding anything ready at hand, the padre decided to make some warm champurrado. It wasn't something he indulged in often, but the look on Diego's face told the padre that his tired young friend was in need of the comfort of the warm, chocolate drink. As he prepared the mixture, he thought about Diego. The young man had been absent from church since his return a few months ago. Padre Benitez had tried to approach Diego regarding his absence, but the few times he had tried to bring the subject up, Diego had brushed him off with an excuse about running the rancho that both men knew was an obvious lie. Something else was keeping Diego away from the church, but he was unable to determine what it was, and Diego was not inclined to discuss it.

When the padre returned to the office where he had left Diego, he found Diego sitting in front of the fire, one blanket wrapped around his waist, the other tossed over his shoulders. His wet clothes were piled on the floor next to him. Diego's head was down, cradled in his hands.

Padre Benitez approached the caballero slowly. When Diego looked up, he had a haunted look that startled the padre for a moment. He handed Diego a mug of the chocolate. Diego took a sip of the creamy mixture at the priest's urging, and then held it between his hands, seemingly forgotten as he gazed back into the fire. The padre pulled another chair over to the fire and watched Diego carefully.

Padre Benitez let the silence linger for some time before he cleared his throat to get Diego's attention. "What brings you to my door on such a terrible night, Diego?" he asked quietly.

Diego finally pulled his eyes away from the fire, and Benitez was surprised to see the younger man's eyes grow moist. "Please help me, Padre."

Benitez's brow rose in question. "You know I will do everything in my power to help, Diego, but first you need to tell me what is wrong."

"She's leaving," Diego said, a catch in his voice.

"She? Who?"

"Victoria," Diego said stiffly. His body trembled again and the padre urged him to finish the mug he was holding.

"Drink, it will help warm you up." He watched as Diego mechanically obeyed. When the mug was finally empty, the padre said, "Now, what is this about Victoria leaving?"

"It's true. She told me earlier tonight. She is going to Mexico City to live with her brother." Diego looked back toward the fire. "It's my fault she is going."

The padre shook his head in confusion. "Diego, I'm afraid I am not following you. Why don't you start at the beginning."

Diego continued to stare into the fire. "I'm not even sure where the beginning is anymore."

Padre Benitez waited for Diego to go on, but the caballero seemed to be lost in the flames of the fire. After a few minutes, he reached out to Diego, drawing the young man's attention back to the present. "Why would Victoria leave, Diego?"

Diego turned sad eyes to the padre. "She…says she doesn't want to watch me die," Diego said so softly that the padre had to lean in to hear him. Even so, he was sure he must have misunderstood.

"Why would she think you are dying, Diego?"

Diego's eyes once more filled with moisture. "I've hurt her, Padre, and I don't know how to fix it. I…I've let so many people down, I just don't know how to fix it." Diego's voice took on a desperate edge. He drew the blanket around him tighter, rubbing absently at his chest as he did so.

Again, the silence grew between them. Finally, Padre Benitez made a decision. He wasn't sure if Diego would listen to him, but he felt it may be the only way for Diego to begin to heal.

"Diego, how long has it been since you have been to confession?"

Diego looked startled, but after thinking for a few minutes, he replied. "I don't remember. Before all of this started."

Padre Benitez did not have to ask what this was. "Perhaps it is time," he said softly.

Their eyes locked as Diego considered. With a resigned sigh he nodded and adjusted the blanket so that he could kneel on the floor before the priest. With practiced ease, he began the prayers that preceded his confession. Padre Benitez followed along, responding when needed, but otherwise letting Diego go uninterrupted. When he came to listing his sins, Diego hesitated. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, suddenly hesitant.

"Let your burden go, Diego," Padre Benitez said quietly.

Something in Diego seemed to give and Padre Benitez saw the tension in Diego's shoulders go away.

Slowly at first, Diego began. As he spoke, the words seemed to come easier. He told the padre everything, the words pouring out in relief. Benitez listened intently, only showing the slightest shock when Diego spoke of killing the gambler, Bishop. Diego had paused then, looking up at the padre to be sure he understood what Diego was telling him. Benitez had heard the story, of course, of how Zorro had killed Bishop in the plaza. If Diego was now confessing to that murder, it could only mean one thing. He swallowed past his astonishment. He gave Diego a small nod to show that he understood. Diego bowed his head once again and went on with his confession, only pausing again when he confessed the night spent with Victoria, but this time, the padre registered no surprise. Once he knew Diego and Zorro were one and the same, it was only a small shock to understand that Diego and Victoria had finally acted on feelings that had been building for several years. When Diego finally grew silent, Padre Benitez sat quietly for a moment. He sighed as he nodded once more. He quickly finished the sacrament and urged Diego to sit.

"What about penance, Padre?" Diego asked, still on his knees.

"We will get to that later, Diego." He waited as Diego sat back down, his eyes following the caballero. When Diego was comfortable once again, the padre spoke quietly.

"First, Diego, you must let go of this guilt you have carried around for so long."

Diego shook his head and started to protest, but the padre silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Diego, I have heard the stories. I know that Zorro has kept himself very busy lately. Probably more so than what is really necessary. After learning tonight that you and Zorro are…well, there are a lot of things that make sense now."

Diego looked away, but the padre reached out a hand and forced Diego to look at him. "Zorro isn't the only one that is hiding behind a mask, Diego," he said softly. "You are using Zorro to hide from a truth you do not want to face."

Diego was silent.

Padre Benitez took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Diego, I want you to listen, really listen, to what I am about to suggest." He waited to be sure Diego acknowledged him with a nod. When he spoke again, his voice was full of compassion and concern. "Diego, the day that your father died and you fought with Bishop. Is it possible that you…well, that you lost that fight on purpose? A self-imposed punishment, so to speak, for not saving your father?"

Diego looked away, back to the fire. After a few moments, he spoke, but it was through clenched teeth. "A rather painful punishment, don't you think?"

"Exceedingly so," Benitez said softly. He remembered that time all too well. The first three days after the fight, when they were unsure if Diego would live or die, were a blur of prayers and worry. Even after Diego had begun to recover Benitez knew that more than physical damage had been done in that fight. An idea suddenly occurred to him. "Have you mourned for your father, Diego?" he asked.

Diego looked surprised at the change of subject. "What?"

"You heard me," Padre Benitez said, not unkindly. "Have you truly mourned for your father? You were too ill to go to his funeral. Have you been to his grave since you have returned?"

Diego looked away as a tear rolled down his cheek. "No," he whispered.

"Why?" Benitez asked.

Diego could only shrug.

"I think perhaps, it is because you do not think you are worthy of your fathers love." He waited for Diego to look at him, but the caballero's eyes stayed glued to the fire. "You are carrying a mistaken guilt about his death, Diego. It was not your fault that Bishop killed him, and it was not Zorro's fault for not saving him."

"I should have-"

"No, Diego. Don Alejandro made his own decision to face Bishop." The padre paused to be sure Diego was listening. "Knowing your father as I did, I know that there was nothing you, or Zorro for that matter, could have done to stop him from facing Bishop. Perhaps it was his way of showing the pueblo that it was okay to stand up to evil, that they didn't always have to rely on Zorro to save them. Or perhaps, as you believe, he hoped for Zorro's assistance. We will never know for sure. But I can tell you that I tend to believe the former."

Diego blew out a breath. "Victoria tried to tell me once that Zorro could not be everywhere, could not save everyone. In her own way, maybe she was saying the same thing."

"Hmmm," the padre said, leaning back in his chair. "She is a wise woman. You should listen to her."

The room grew quiet once again, each man lost in their own thoughts. After some time, the padre rose. "It is late, Diego, and I know you have much to think about. You are welcome to stay as long as you need to. But before you go, I want you to promise me one thing."

Diego nodded. "Anything, padre."

Benitez put a hand on the top of Diego's head, saying a quick blessing. When he drew his hand away he turned to leave. When he reached the door he turned around. "Mourn for your father, Diego" he said as he stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

_ZZZ_

Diego's eyes opened to sunlight streaming through the window in the small office. He was lying on a wooden bench, his legs bent so that his tall frame would fit on the too small bench. But despite the late night and uncomfortable surroundings, Diego felt better rested than he had in a very long time.

He had sat for a long time, staring into the fire, after the padre had left him alone. He had run through all of the emotions as he thought about his father; anger at the manner of his death, guilt for not being able to prevent it, and finally sorrow for losing the man that he had admired and looked up to, even though he had been unable to share all aspects of his life with that man. Tears had flowed freely down his face as he thought about his father and how much he missed him. The padre had been right, he hadn't taken the time to properly mourn his father.

But as he stared at the flames of the fire, Diego began to realize that the padre was also right about his father. Alejandro had said several times that Zorro was not going to be able to save the pueblo on his own. It would take the entire pueblo to do that. But instead, the pueblo had come to expect Zorro to save them, knowing that he would ride to the rescue whenever they needed him. In trying to save the pueblo, Zorro had actually done just the opposite; he had allowed them to come to rely on a masked man rather than learn how to protect themselves.

As sleep threatened to take over Diego, his thoughts turned to Victoria and Felipe. He knew now that it wasn't only his father that he was missing. He also missed the two people that had come to mean so much to him. In trying to save them, he had pushed them away, too afraid of losing them to allow them to get too close. He had put himself in an unwinnable situation; push them away and risk their love and friendship, or allow them to get close and be hurt once again. Either way, he lost his friends.

In the case of Felipe, Diego now acknowledged how important it had been to have someone to share his thoughts and ideas with. Felipe was someone that he could share the burden of being Zorro with. And it had made that burden easier.

As for Victoria, Diego knew he had to change her mind about leaving. He had loved her since the moment he had returned from Spain, and after all these years of struggling, he refused to admit that he was about to lose her now. Even if it took getting on his knees before her, he would convince her of his love, and get her to change her mind.

With such thoughts swirling in his mind, Diego had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, curling his legs up on the bench and cradling his head on his arm.

But now, as morning the morning sun rose and began to dry the puddles of rain water, Diego rose from the bench and stretched. His clothes had been laid out in front of the fire and were now dry. As he dressed a plan began to form in his mind. If the pueblo had come to rely on Zorro too much, perhaps it was time that Diego stepped into his father's shoes, and led the pueblo by example, the example his own father had tried so hard, to set.

As he finished dressing, there was a knock at the door and it opened to reveal Padre Benitez. He was carrying a tray with some fruit and bread. At first Diego tried to refuse, anxious to set his plan into motion, but the padre insisted that he eat, so Diego sat down with the tray and began to eat. Within the first few bites, Diego realized he was ravenous and within minutes, the tray was empty.

Padre Felipe tried to hide his smile as he watched Diego consume the breakfast. While Diego still looked somewhat tired, there was an air of renewed confidence about him this morning that made Benitez wonder if his words of the night before had finally sunk in. He watched as Diego finished and set the tray aside.

"I don't know how to thank you Padre," Diego said softly when he had swallowed the last bite.

"It is only some fruit, Diego. I wish it could be more, you look like you could use a few good meals."

Diego looked at himself briefly before he realized he was being teased. "You did more than feed me, padre," Diego said.

"If I could heal a wounded soul, Diego, then I am very happy."

Diego nodded as he rose. "I was hoping I could impose one more favor from you."

Padre Benitez nodded. "If it is in my power to grant, I will."

Diego let a sly smile cross his face, one of the first in several months. "I have something to do first, but I want to ask Victoria to marry me."

"Today?" the padre asked, not surprised.

"Yes."

The padre hesitated before he lifted a finger. "I will marry the two of you, Diego, provided she agrees, of course," he said with a smile. "But not today. Two weeks from now, I think will be long enough."

"Two weeks?"

The padre stopped Diego's protest with a wave of his finger. "At least two weeks, Diego, and even then, I am bending the rules of propriety. I will post the bans today, if she agrees. But you both have been through a tumultuous time, Diego. You should be sure you are marrying for the right reasons." Padre Benitez gave Diego a warm smile. "And she is a woman Diego. She will need a little time to prepare."

Diego hadn't thought about that. "Okay, two weeks," he finally agreed. He knew a normal engagement was much longer and that the priest was giving them a break by agreeing to perform the marriage so quickly.

Once that was settled, Diego was eager to be on his way. He found Tornado in the mission stable where he had left him the night before. Someone had given him fresh oats and had removed the large saddle. With a grateful prayer for Padre Benitez, Diego headed his horse for the cave. He took time to settle Tornado before he went into the hacienda to quickly change his clothes.

When he was ready, Diego headed down the hall to his father's room. He hadn't been in his father's room since his death, and hesitated slightly at the door. Maria, and Felipe before her, had kept the room neat and dust free. Other than a few items of clothing that Diego had allowed Maria to donate to families in need, everything was the same as it had been before Alejandro had died. Diego hadn't had the heart to go through his father's things.

With determined steps, Diego stepped into the room. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where his father usually kept it. It was a ring that had belonged to his mother, one that he had known for a long time that he eventually wanted to give to Victoria. When he found the ring, Diego's eyes flicked to a painting of his mother that hung on the wall near Alejandro's bed. With a small nod toward the painting, Diego clutched the ring in his fist and headed for the stables.

_ZZZ_

When Diego arrived at the stables, Manuel was showing two of the stable boys how to fix tack. He looked shocked when Diego said he was going to the pueblo.

"Are you sure that is a good idea, patron?" Manuel asked, concerned.

Diego gave him a reassuring smile. "It will be fine, Manuel."

"Perhaps I should send some of the men with you."

"It will be fine, Manuel," Diego repeated. He mounted Esperanza and left his vaquero and the stable boys staring after him.

When Diego was out of sight, Manuel sent the two boys to find the other vaqueros. He began to saddle the horses as he impatiently waited. He was determined that this time, his patron would not return from the pueblo in the same condition he had returned in the last time he had visited Los Angeles.


	17. Chapter 17

Alcalde Luis Ramon read over his latest tax initiative and smiled. Collecting taxes always made him happy, but he found this tax especially clever, if he did say so himself. In the past he had tried to tax everything within, and even a few without, reason. He had taxed water, earnings, horses, and most recently even children. Each time, Zorro had appeared to somehow thwart him.

"Mendoza!" the alcalde yelled. There was a moment of silence before scrambling feet could be heard in the cuartel yard and a disheveled Mendoza rushed through the door of the alclade's office. He quickly smoothed down his hair and came to attention before Ramon.

"You called for me, alcalde?"

Ramon rose, coming around the desk to hand Mendoza the sheet of paper he had been reading. "I want you to post this tax notice on the tavern doors, immediately."

Mendoza took the paper and began to read. As he read, his eyes became wide. "But alcalde, you can't tax-"

"I have no intention of actually collecting this tax, Mendoza," Ramon interrupted. "I am simply using it to draw out Zorro. As soon as you have posted the notice, I want every man stationed in and around the plaza. Put them on the rooftops, between the buildings, behind boxes for all I care, but I want every man present and accounted for. Each man will have a rifle and a pistol loaded and primed, ready to fire."

"All the men, alcalde?" Mendoza asked.

"Every last man, Mendoza. And they will remain at their posts until Zorro appears to…dispute this tax. When he does, they are to shoot him, without hesitation, no matter what."

"But alcalde-"

The alcalde gave Mendoza an exasperated look. "No excuses, Mendoza. I want Zorro dead by the end of the day."

"But what if Zorro doesn't appear by the end of the day?"

"You read the notice, Mendoza. It's guaranteed to bring Zorro."

Mendoza looked down at the paper and couldn't help but nod. If anything would bring Zorro, this would do it.

"And Mendoza," the alcalde said, menace in his voice. "If Zorro escapes this time, it will be you in front of the firing squad come dawn."

Mendoza swallowed. "Si, alcalde," he squeaked out as he shuffled from the office.

As soon as Mendoza was gone, the alcalde smiled. He went back to his chair, putting his feet up on his desk as he loaded his own pistols.

_ZZZ_

Mendoza looked around the plaza as his men scattered to their hiding places. He had ordered men to be posted on the roofs of the church, tavern and cuartel. Others were to hide around the various buildings that lined the plaza. As the alcalde had ordered, every man was posted around the plaza. Every man except one, that is. Mendoza had very quietly pulled Corporal Sepulveda aside and ordered him to keep watch at the pueblo gate. When he saw Zorro, Mendoza told him to fire a shot in the air, and do everything he could to keep Zorro out of the plaza until Mendoza could get there. With any luck at all, Mendoza would be able to get to Zorro before he came into the pueblo and somehow tell him what was going on.

Of course, that only solved half of Mendoza's problems. The other half of his problems involved a fire squad at dawn. The thought sent Mendoza's hands to shaking as he posted the alcalde's tax notice. Twice he hit his thumb as he tried to nail the notice to the door of the tavern. He stood on the tavern porch with his thumb in his mouth when the door flew open and Victoria poked her head out.

"Mendoza, who is pounding on my tavern door?"

Mendoza slowly removed his thumb. "That would be me, Senorita."

"For what purpose?"

Mendoza's hands still shook as he held up the piece of paper he had been trying to post to the tavern door. He opened his mouth to speak, but Victoria snatched the paper away before he could say anything.

"What is this," she said as she read the tax notice. Within moments, she looked back at Mendoza, anger in her eyes. "Is he crazy? He is trying to charge my customers a tax for entering?"

"Si, but-"

"We'll see about this, Mendoza," she said as she turned toward the alcalde's office.

Mendoza quickly reached out a hand to stop her. "Senorita, please," he said. He looked around and lowered his voice, knowing his men were stationed in various places nearby. "I promised Zorro I would protect you."

"Fine," Victoria said in a huff. "Then protect me from this unjust tax!"

"I'm trying to," Mendoza said, his voice pleading for Victoria to calm down.

Victoria shook her head as she looked at her friend. "Has the alcalde finally lost his mind, Mendoza? There is no way Zorro will allow-"

Victoria stopped herself mid-sentence as understanding dawned on her. "Oh, I see. This isn't about a crazy tax, is it, Mendoza? This is just another elaborate trap for Zorro, isn't it?"

Mendoza waved his hand to motion Victoria to keep her voice down. "I'm trying to warn him Senorita, Victoria. I have Sepulveda posted at the pueblo gates to warn Zorro, but-"

"Sepulveda? Zorro won't listen to Sepulveda." Victoria's mind was swirling. "But I know someone he will listen to," she said as she disappeared back into the tavern, the door slamming shut behind her.

Mendoza watched her go before he looked around the plaza to see if any of his men may have overheard the conversation. With a sigh of relief, he returned to posting the tax notice, confident that Victoria would somehow get word to Zorro.

_ZZZ_

Felipe leaned over the neck of his pony, willing the horse to go faster. He didn't have a clear idea of what was happening in the pueblo, but Victoria had told him that the alcalde was setting a trap for Zorro and that was all he needed to know. He urged the horse faster, trying to calm the panic in his heart.

As he came over a hill outside of the pueblo, Felipe jerked his mount to a surprised stopped. He had to blink several times to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was. On the road in front of him, Diego was riding Esperanza toward the pueblo. When Diego saw Felipe, he gave a small wave.

With a relieved sigh, Felipe urged his horse forward. As soon as he was close enough, he began making frantic signs. Diego watched, but after a few minutes he shook his head.

"Slow down, Felipe, I'm not following."

Felipe ran a frustrated hand through his hair and willed himself to slow down. As he made each sign, he waited for Diego to nod his understanding. When he was finished, Diego looked toward the pueblo.

"So the alcalde has set yet another trap for Zorro." He made a move to continue his journey to the pueblo, but Felipe stopped him with a hand on his arm. Diego shrugged as Felipe made a question mark in the air. "What am I going to do?"

Felipe nodded.

"Go to the pueblo," Diego answered.

The answer didn't help to relieve any of Felipe's anxiety. He drew a 'Z' in the air with his finger.

Diego shook his head. "No. If the alcalde is waiting for Zorro, he'll have a long wait," he said with a small grin.

The gesture was so familiar to Felipe, that he couldn't help but smile himself. He brought his pony alongside Diego's. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but there was something very different about Diego today. He seemed…lighter, like the burden he had been carrying around for so long was gone. Felipe signed another question, which brought Diego to a stop once again.

Diego took a moment to gather his thoughts. When he was ready, he put a hand on Felipe's shoulder. "Felipe…I'm afraid I haven't been very attentive since…my father died and I'm sorry. I should have listened to what you and Victoria were trying to tell me, but I…well, I just didn't. But I intend to change that, stating today."

Felipe nodded and tried to give Diego a reassuring smile.

"There is a lot I have to tell you, but," Diego said as his eyes went toward the pueblo, "now is not the time. But we will talk, Felipe, I promise."

Their eyes locked for a moment before Diego returned the smile and they continued on their way.

As they approached the gate of the pueblo, Felipe pointed to where Corporal Sepulveda was crouched along the wall. Diego nodded.

"Keeping an eye out for Zorro, no doubt."

Felipe made his sign for the sergeant.

"Mendoza sent him to watch?"

Felipe nodded.

Diego watched the corporal as they continued toward the pueblo, thinking. Sepulveda gave Diego a curious look as they rode through the gate, but made no effort to stop them.

"Mendoza is a good man," Diego mumbled as they rode. When they were well past the gate, Diego pulled his horse to a stop. "Felipe, I want you to go back to the tavern. Stay with Victoria, keep her safe until I get there."

'Where are you going?' Felipe signed.

"I think it is long past time that I had a talk with the alcalde," Diego responded.

There was more Zorro in his voice than Diego and Felipe felt a pit of fear begin to reform in his stomach. He remembered Diego's terrifying anger the last time he spoke to the alcalde.

Diego seemed to sense Felipe's fear. "It's all right, Felipe. I have no intention of killing him."

Felipe didn't seem convinced.

"Or being killed."

With that, Felipe seemed to relax somewhat. He turned toward the tavern, giving Diego a last look over his shoulder and a wave.


	18. Chapter 18

Diego continued into the pueblo alone. He glanced at the rooftops and saw the evidence of several lancers. He could also see them stationed around the plaza, behind corners and boxes, each with rifles ready. There were a few citizens of the pueblo around the plaza, but most were still too cautious of the alcalde to linger. Diego sighed as he spotted Sergeant Mendoza pacing the tavern porch.

As he dismounted and tied Esperanza to the hitch rail.

"Don Diego, wh-what are you doing here? I mean, you haven't been to the pueblo since…" Mendoza let the thought trail off. He looked toward the alcalde's office nervously. "Perhaps it would be best of you went…"

Diego ignored Mendoza and stepped around him to pull down the tax notice that Mendoza had attached to the tavern door. His eyes scanned the paper quickly, crumpling it in his fist when he was done.

"The alcalde can't possibly think the people will let a tax like this stand."

Mendoza shrugged. "Well, he isn't exactly-"

"Taxing people for patronizing a business is a little over the top, even for the alcalde, don't you think?" Diego asked as he tossed the crumpled paper away.

"I suppose it is a little bit-"

"Mendoza!" came the alcalde's voice.

Both men turned toward the voice to find the alcalde stalking across the plaza. The angry shout had caught the attention of the few citizens that were in the plaza and they watched as Diego approached the man.

"De la Vega, what are you doing here? I thought I told you-"

"I know what you said alcalde. And I've decided that I no longer care what you want." Diego said.

A surprised murmur spread among those watching and within moments, runners were sent to alert anyone nearby as to what was happening.

"You don't care-" the alcalde started. He stopped and looked down at the tax notice on the ground. He bent down to pick it up, an idea forming in his head. "Mendoza, I told you to post this notice on the tavern door. Why is it lying in the dirt?"

Mendoza did not have a chance to reply before Diego stepped forward. "I threw it away."

"You threw it away?"

"Yes," Diego said. "The days of you abusing your office are over, alcalde."

"You don't know what you are talking about. Mendoza, place Don Diego under arrest!"

Mendoza hesitated. He had been in this situation before and remembered all too well how it had ended. "Alcalde, perhaps if-"

"Arrest him, now, Mendoza!"

"But all the men, they are…you know."

A small crowd was beginning to form and Diego watched as a group of the de la Vega vaqueros rode into the plaza, rifles at the ready. He gave Manuel a small nod of acknowledgment before his eyes once again went to the rooftops. The last thing he wanted was for a gun battle to erupt where innocent people could get hurt or killed. He turned his attention back to the alcalde.

"I don't care, Mendoza. Surely you don't need help to arrest a man such as this," the alcalde was saying.

"But alcalde…"

"Fine, then order the men to shoot him if he resists."

"But what are the charges?" Mendoza asked.

The alcalde had to think for a moment. "Destroying government property," he finally said, holding up the crumpled tax notice.

Diego shook his head with an amused smile.

"But alcalde, you said you had no intention of collecting the-"

"Never mind what I said, Mendoza! Arrest him!"

The sergeant shifted his feet uncomfortably.

The alcalde turned to Mendoza, menace in his voice. "Are you disobeying an order, sergeant?"

Mendoza's face flushed as he stood up a little straighter, but before he could reply, Diego stepped forward, coming face to face with the alcalde.

"Enough of this, alcalde." Diego waved a hand around the pueblo, where more and more people were beginning to gather, including Victoria and Felipe who had stepped out onto the tavern porch to listen. "Look around you. These people are done being bullied, taxed, and abused by you, alcalde." As he spoke, Diego took a step forward, forcing the alcalde to retreat. He angled the alcalde away from the tavern, not only to keep Felipe and Victoria safe should trouble develop, but also to protect the bulk of the people that were gathering around the tavern as well.

"There is a point, alcalde, when the people will stand up and say 'enough'. I believe we have reached that point today. You have cheated your last peso from these people." Diego spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear him, and the alcalde could hear the murmur of ascent. His eyes darted around the plaza to see heads nodding. He swallowed hard as he continued to retreat.

Diego continued to step forward, moving the alcalde to the center of the plaza, near the fountain. "You have a choice to make, alcalde. You can become the type of leader these people deserve and rule with fairness and justice, or you can pack your bags and leave."

Luis Ramon's face was flushed. He took a step back, but hit the low wall around the plaza fountain and nearly fell backward. Only Diego's quick hand reaching out to grab his collar stopped the alcalde from tumbling into the water. When he was safely upright once more, Diego let go.

"Lancers!" the alcalde called out. Immediately, the heads of the lancers began to pop up around the plaza and on the roofs with rifles pointed at the center of the plaza, toward the alcalde and Diego. Just as suddenly though, the de la Vega vaqueros brought their own rifles to bear on the alcalde. The people lined up around the pueblo also took up any weapon they could find, including sticks and clubs. The murmurs around the pueblo were becoming more pronounced as they prepared to defend Diego.

"If anything happens to me," Diego said as he looked around at his supporters, "you will die, alcalde."

Ramon looked at the vaqueros and the gathered citizens with hate burning in his eyes.

"You can end this now, alcalde. I gave you a choice. What will it be?"

The alcalde shrugged away from Diego. "This isn't the end of this," he said under his breath.

"Wrong again. It very much is the end." Diego's voice had taken on a familiar, low growl and the alcalde looked at him sharply. The alcalde tried to create some distance between the two of them, but Diego followed.

"You can't do this. It is, it is open rebellion and I can have you arrested."

Diego gave him a sly grin. "Then arrest me, alcalde, and see what it gets you." He stepped closer to the alcalde and said quietly enough that only the alcalde could hear, "Perhaps this time Mendoza can arrange for you and I to be alone in a cell for fifteen minutes."

The alcalde's face went white and a hand went to his throat, remembering what happened between them at the hacienda. He looked around the plaza once more before shooting a look of pure hatred at Diego.

"Lancers!" he called barely loud enough to be heard around the plaza. "Return to the cuartel." He turned on his heal and marched toward his office, ignoring the quiet cheers of the people gathered.

Mendoza looked to Diego, who gave him a small nod. Mendoza cleared his throat and called for the lancers. "Stand down," he yelled. "Return to the cuartel, lancers!"

As the men shuffled toward the cuartel, Diego looked over at the tavern to see Victoria staring at him. Her brow was narrowed. When their eyes locked, she turned away and went into the tavern. Felipe gave him a shrug and followed her inside.

Diego moved to follow, first telling Manuel and the other de la Vega men that the danger was passed for now. He thought the men would head home at that point, but Manuel stubbornly stayed put. "We will go with you, when you are ready to return to the hacienda, Patron."

It was in Diego's mind to order the men home, but he bit back the words, instead nodding. Most of the people that had gathered around the plaza watching were now either heading into the tavern to talk about what they just witnessed, or were lingering around the plaza, watching Diego.

With a deep breath, Diego headed for the tavern. As he entered the establishment, the cacophony of noise died down somewhat. People were quick to say hello and give him words of support, but Diego's eyes searched only for Victoria. When he saw her come through the curtain with a pitcher, he brushed off the well-wishers and headed over to her. He finally caught her as she was about to enter the kitchen once again.

"Victoria, wait. I need to talk to you."

"I'm very busy, Diego, can't it wait?" Her reply was curt and she would not meet his eyes.

"No, it won't wait." Victoria tried to brush past him, but Diego reached out a hand to stop her. "Victoria, please don't go."

Those close to the couple watched in hushed silence.

"Diego, I'm very busy right now."

Diego would not be brushed off. He held her arm, but let his hand slide down to hold her hand. "Victoria, I love you, and I don't won't you to leave."

Diego's voice carried just enough in the tavern for others to take notice and a hush fell over the room. Diego seemed not to notice.

"I don't want to live without you." Diego kept one hand locked onto hers, and with the other, he pulled out the ring he had been saving. He slid to one knee before her. "Victoria, will you marry me?"

Victoria seemed to notice for the first time that all eyes in the now very full tavern were on the two of them. "I…oh…" She pulled Diego to his feet and ducked into the kitchen, pulling him after her. Surprised voices were raised, easily heard over the wall into the kitchen, but Victoria shut them out.

"Diego, what are you doing?" she asked when they were alone.

Diego held up the ring once more. "Asking you to marry me."

Victoria clamped her hand over Diego's, ring and all. "Diego this isn't-"

"Victoria, just listen to me for a moment. Please?"

Victoria finally nodded.

"I've been thinking about what you said, in the cave. And I realized, with Padre Benitez's help, that you were right. I wasn't listening to what you or Felipe were trying to tell me, and I'm sorry. I was so afraid of losing you both, that I pushed you away. But in the end, I would lose you anyway that way. And I know now that I can't lose you, Victoria. I won't lose you. Please, say you will stay and marry me."

Victoria turned away. "Marry you…and what about the alcalde?" She asked as she turned back around. "He won't let what you did today go. He will still try to have you arrested."

"Not with a plaza full of de la Vega vaqueros," he said with a shrug. "I meant what I said out there, Victoria. The days of this alcalde using the people of the pueblo for his own gain are over."

"And what brought this on so suddenly?"

"It's…it's what my father would have done," Diego said softly. "The padre helped me realize that, too."

"The padre is a wise man."

Diego grinned. "He said the same of you."

For the first time, Victoria returned his smile. "I'm glad you are finally listening to someone." She was half-joking, but Diego looked down. She spoke her next words softly, not wanting anyone in the tavern to overhear. "And what of Zorro? This won't be the only trap that is set for him."

Diego looked back up. "Zorro will…be taking a break for a while," he said just as softly. "Perhaps permanently if we get a new alcalde."

Victoria made no response to that. Six months ago, she was devastated at the thought of Zorro being gone from her life permanently. But now, after endless nights of worry, it might be better for everyone if Zorro really was part of their past. The thought did not disturb her as much as she thought it might.

She came back over to where Diego stood with the ring still clutched in his hand. Slowly, she reached out to touch the ring. "It's very beautiful."

"It belonged to my mother," Diego answered.

She looked up at Diego and knew at that moment, that her heart would never allow her to move to Mexico City. She nodded her head. "Yes, Diego," she whispered. "Yes, I will marry you."

In one swift move, Diego pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they finally drew apart, he slipped the ring onto her finger.

Victoria looked down at the ring. "A perfect fit," she said with a smile.

Diego returned the smile. "Yes," he said. "You are."


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning, Victoria came down the stairs of the tavern with a lightness she hadn't felt in a very long time. Even the stacks of dirty dishes that she knew were waiting for her and the floor which needed to be swept could do nothing to dampen her mood.

The previous day, as Diego and Victoria came back through the curtain together and announced their engagement, the full tavern had turned rapidly into a party. Word spread quickly and the tavern was full until late at night. Even Mendoza had made his way over to the tavern to offer his congratulations and report that the alcalde was behaving himself in his office and did not show any inclination to try to disrupt what had become a pueblo celebration.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Victoria looked over to find Felipe asleep in a chair near the front door. He and Diego had spent the night at the tavern, Felipe guarding one door, Diego the other. Despite the reassurances of Mendoza, Diego did not trust the alcalde to stay put and had insisted upon staying the night to make sure Victoria was safe. She was also sure there was still de la Vega vaqueros close by, too, though they hadn't actually stayed in the tavern.

Victoria went through the curtain into the kitchen and stopped short when she saw Diego. He was crouched in front of the fire, coaxing last night's coals into a fresh fire. He turned when he heard her come in and rose.

"Good morning, Querida," he said.

Victoria couldn't help but smile. She allowed him to draw her into a kiss, the warmth and strength of his arms making her feel safe and secure. She stayed in his arms even after the kiss had ended.

"Did you sleep well?" Diego asked quietly.

"Better than I suspect you did. It couldn't have been comfortable in that chair all night."

Diego pulled away slightly so that he could look at her better. "It is worth losing a night's sleep to ensure you are safe, Victoria."

Victoria sighed. "Do you really think the alcalde will try something?"

Diego shrugged. "Perhaps, but he would be a fool to try it. Mendoza will keep a close eye on the lancers, so if he tries anything, he will most likely have to do it alone. I'm hoping the example I set yesterday will help encourage the people to stand up and be heard as well. And, I will be sending a letter to the governor explaining what has been going on here. The governor will do what is necessary to avoid open rebellion and would do well to replace him. The alcalde would be smart to leave before that happens."

"You really think he will just leave?"

"What choice does he have, Victoria? He is losing all hope of controlling the people and it is only a matter of time before the lancers fall under Mendoza's spell," he said with a grin. "There is no reason for him to stay."

"I hope you are right. And I will pray the territorial governor will send someone better to replace him."

The rest of the morning was spent cleaning up from the party and beginning to prepare for the normal tavern lunch crowd. Felipe swept the floor while Victoria and Pilar worked on lunch. Diego helped with the dishes, but quickly realized his kitchen skills were lacking and decided to make himself scarce. He left the tavern long enough to find Mendoza and get an update on the alcalde.

"I haven't seen him this morning, Don Diego. He took breakfast in his room and hasn't spoken to anyone all morning."

Diego nodded. "Let me know if he leaves. I will send most of the vaqueros back to the hacienda today, but will keep one around to keep an eye out until things settle down."

"Si Don Diego," Mendoza said. But when Diego turned to leave, Mendoza stopped him with a nervous cough. "Uh, Diego?"

Diego turned back.

"I've been meaning to…to talk to you…about…"

Diego gave him a knowing nod and put a hand on Mendoza's shoulder. "It's alright, Sergeant. I don't hold anything that happened against you."

"I wanted to help, I really did."

"I know, sergeant. There was nothing you could do then, but what you are doing now will make a difference. I promise."

Mendoza looked relieved. "Thank you, Diego."

Diego gave him a pat on the back before he went to find Felipe. He thought it was about time that they re-opened _The Guardian_ for business. While he had been absent from the pueblo, the paper had not been published. With a change in the government of the pueblo imminent, it was as a good time as any to get the presses going again.

_ZZZ_

Luis Ramon watched Diego and Felipe leave the tavern and head toward _The Guardian_ office from the window of his office and seethed. Diego had his arm casually over the boy's shoulder, like he didn't have a care in the world. Well, if it were up to Ramon, he wouldn't have any care because he would be dead.

Ramon stalked back to his desk, pulling open the drawer that held his pistols. He pulled one out and loaded it carefully, then tucked it into his sash. The second pistol he loaded and tucked behind his back. He shut the drawer again with an angry slam.

When he opened the door to his office, however, he saw Corporal Sepulveda leaning back in a chair. When the dozing corporal saw the alcalde, he pushed the chair upright and came to his feet.

"Alcalde!" he said crisply.

"Sepulveda, what are you doing?"

"I, uh, I was just waiting…watching for…things," the corporal said nervously.

Ramon gave the corporal a disgusted look and slammed the door shut once again. He paced his office, thinking. No doubt, Mendoza had posted the corporal to keep an eye on his movements. No matter, he would find a way to get out without the alerting the corporal. He went across the room to the door leading into the cells. If he couldn't go out the front door, he would go around the back. Most of the lancers would be at lunch and with any luck, he could go around the edge of the pueblo to _The Guardian_ office unseen.

_ZZZ_

Diego and Felipe entered the office and took a quick look around. For the most part, the office looked undisturbed. The printing press was covered in a layer of dust, but other than that, it looked to be in good shape. Diego went to the desk while Felipe looked over the press.

The desk, too, was covered in dust, which Diego swiped at with a hand. "Looks like we are doomed to spend a day cleaning, Felipe."

The boy smiled as he looked over the press. All of the parts and pieces seemed to be present, which he indicated with a sign.

"Good," Diego said. "Once we get everything cleaned up, we should be able to get a paper out in good time. Why don't you go over to the tavern and ask Victoria if we can borrow a bucket and some towels to start cleaning up. If I can find some paper, I want to start on that letter to the governor."

Felipe gave a nod and disappeared through the door. Diego rifled through the desk looking for paper. After a few minutes of searching, he found the inkwell, but no paper. He turned to search the other side of the desk. He finally found a stack of paper when he heard a light footstep enter the office.

"Back already, Felipe? What's the matter, did she threaten to make you help cook-" As Diego turned, he saw that it wasn't Felipe after all. He saw the alcalde pull the pistol from his sash and threw the stack of paper at the alcalde, trying to disrupt the man's aim. He immediately tried to spin away, but he wasn't fast enough. He felt the bullet bite into the flesh of left shoulder, the force sending him back against the wall. He let his legs collapse underneath him and slid down the wall. He lay on the floor as still as possible as he heard the alcalde step around the desk. Pain radiated through his arm, but he knew he had to remain still, trying to fool the alcalde into thinking he was dead, or at least hurt bad enough to ignore. All he needed was a small opening to make a move…

"Don't worry, Diego, I will make sure your woman joins you in death," the alcalde said. With his eyes closed, Diego never saw the kick coming as the alcalde's boot collided with his head.

_ZZZ_

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard footsteps once again. He opened his eyes to look for a weapon, anything he could use to defend himself, but before he found anything, Felipe raced around the corner of the desk.

"Felipe," Diego managed to whisper. "Thank god you're back."

Felipe tried to sign a question while he frantically pulled his handkerchief out and held it against the wound his eyes wide in shock. He watched as Diego motioned him to help him up. Felipe hesitated.

"Felipe, there is no time. Help me up…he's going after Victoria."

That spurred Felipe to movement and he pulled Diego to his feet using his good arm. Once on his feet, Diego swayed but put a hand out to the steady himself.

"He'll head to the tavern. We have to stop him." Diego said. He looked at the wound on his shoulder, but it had already clotted enough to stop bleeding.

Felipe looked doubtful, but followed as Diego rushed from the office. As they hurried to the tavern, he listened as Diego gave him instructions on what to do. When they reached the tavern porch, Felipe gave Diego a last look before hurrying around to the back door of the tavern.

_ZZZ_

The tavern was not yet busy with the lunch crowd, but the few voices that were there, died quickly as Luis Ramon stepped through the door. Victoria's heart leapt into her throat as she watched the man step inside with slow, deliberate steps. Her eyes darted around the room, even though she knew Diego and Felipe were at The Guardian office.

"Looking for your…fiancé, Senorita? He won't be coming. He's dead." The alcalde had circled around the room until he was facing the front door and the bar where Victoria was standing frozen. He had one hand tucked behind his back, the other rested on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"You lie," Victoria said hotly.

Ramon shrugged. "Believe whatever you wish, I don't particularly care and it makes little difference to me. Either way, you will be joining him shortly."

Mendoza stepped next to Victoria, trying to shield her with his body as he spoke. "Alcalde, there is no reason to do this. Why don't we go back to the cuartel and talk about-"

"Shut up, Mendoza!" the alcalde shouted. "And I suggest you get out of the way."

"Alcalde-"

"I have no problem shooting you as well, Mendoza," the alcalde said as he pulled the pistol from under his coat in the back. An astonished wave of voices went through the tavern as the few patrons tried to get out of the line of fire from the alcalde. Victoria however held her ground, her hand on Mendoza's arm.

"Killing me won't help you keep your job, alcalde," she said.

"No, but at least I will leave knowing that a took care of those who opposed me."

The murmur of voices continued until there was a loud crash from the kitchen. As everyone's attention turned toward the kitchen, including the alcalde's, there was a flash of motion coming through the front door. Before anyone understood what was happening, Diego ran straight for the alcalde, launching himself at the surprised man, before he could move out of the way.

"Diego!" Victoria nearly screamed.

The pair landed in a heap on the floor of the tavern. The pistol was knocked out of the alcalde's hand, landing near where a shocked Mendoza stood. No one seemed to notice as Mendoza bent to pick up the gun.

Diego and Ramon struggled back to their feet, but the alcalde sent a punch to the wound in Diego's shoulder. Diego staggered backward, but when the alcalde came at him again, Diego met his charge with a right fist to the jaw. The alcalde fell back against a table.

"Mendoza, do something," Victoria pleaded. She could see the blood on Diego's shirt and felt her heart clench.

The alcalde drew his sword, waving it in the air in front of Diego. Diego glanced around for a weapon to defend himself, but found nothing within easy reach. He easily dogged the first two swipes of the alcaldes sword, but just as the alcalde pulled his arm back for a final lunge, the sharp crack of the pistol firing brought both men to an abrupt stop. Silence reigned in the tavern and for a moment as they wondered who had been hit. The question was quickly answered as the alcalde collapsed onto the floor, a quickly growing stain forming across the alcalde's stomach. The alcalde's eyes were wide with shock and his mouth was open, but no sound came out.

"Someone go get the doctor!" Victoria yelled as she hurried to Diego's side.

Mendoza tossed the gun away in disgust. He looked down at the alcalde in shock, barely registering the sound of running feet as someone scrambled out the door to find the doctor.

Victoria looked at the wound in Diego's shoulder. "Diego, what happened?"

Diego was stunned by the sudden event. His head was pounding and he felt dizzy, but he turned his eyes to Victoria's. "Victoria, are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

"No, no, Diego, I'm fine." She reached for a towel at the bar. "But you're hurt."

She pressed the towel against his shoulder and Diego swallowed against the growing dizziness. Felipe appeared from the kitchen and immediately took Diego's good arm, putting it over his shoulder. Diego leaned into him heavily and both of them nearly toppled over. "Well, done, Felipe," Diego whispered as he tried to make his eyes focus.

"Diego, you need to sit down, you don't look so good." Victoria said as she and Felipe tried to guide him to a chair.

Diego fought to stay conscious as he looked at Victoria. "Victoria," he breathed as his legs gave out. "I'm sorry," he finished as he felt himself falling. As the darkness closed in on him, he thought he heard someone scream.


	20. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

Diego stood on a bluff overlooking the ocean, the cool breeze causing an unruly lock of hair to fall into his eyes. With his hand he pushed it back out of his eyes.

"This was one of your mother's favorite places, Diego" his father said, standing next to him. "At one point, we even planned on building our house here."

Diego recognized the spot where they were standing. It was on the extreme western end of de la Vega land, far from where the current hacienda stood. "What changed your mind?" he asked.

"You," his father said with a light laugh. "We came out here on a picnic one day when you had just learned how to walk and while your mother and I were…distracted, you wandered too close to the edge of the bluff. We caught you before you fell off, of course, but your mother decided her dream home could wait until you were old enough to know better than to wander off a cliff. But by then, your mother had created those wonderful gardens at the hacienda and didn't want to start over again at a new home. So we stayed where we were."

Diego nodded. "Is that why you always fuss over the gardens? Because mother loved them so much?"

Alejandro shrugged. "Perhaps. I think it was a small way for me to connect with her, even after she was gone."

Diego didn't respond. His head felt fuzzy and he couldn't quite remember how they had come to be on this bluff. He looked around for their horses, but there were none around.

The silence stretched on as they both looked out at the ocean. The waves crashed into the shore and rolled back out in a peaceful rhythm.

"Diego," Alejandro finally said. "I've been trying to tell you something for some time now."

Diego turned toward his father. "What is it, Father?"

"You weren't ready to listen then, but I think maybe you are now."

Diego looked at him curiously. A memory was forming in the back of his mind, of a cave and hearing his father calling to him, but it faded as quickly as it came. He listened to his father intently.

"I'm proud of you, Diego. I didn't always understand you, but I never stopped loving you. And now…that I understand everything, I want you to know how proud I am of you."

Diego didn't know how to respond, so he simply waited for his father to go on.

Alejandro turned around and began walking, Diego falling into step beside him. "I know it must have been hard, to keep such a secret, but I understand why you felt you had to."

As they walked, Diego realized that they were suddenly in the gardens at the hacienda. He looked around, momentarily confused.

"I don't regret facing Bishop, either, Diego. What it set into motion…well, I may have wished for some things to go differently, but in the end, everything worked out the way it was supposed to."

"Father, what are you saying?"

"I'm trying to tell you, Diego, that you don't have to feel guilty about not saving me."

Diego looked at him quizzically. There was a strange buzzing sound in his ears and a numbness beginning in his left shoulder.

"You told Mendoza that he would not have been able to stop you from confronting Bishop. But I could say the same to you, Diego. You could not have stopped me from facing him. Not after he killed my friend."

"Father…" Diego said. His vision was going blurry.

"It's okay, Diego. It isn't your time."

A dark shape stepped up next to his father, but Diego couldn't quite make out who it was.

"But we will be waiting for you, when it is your time."

Through the haze, Diego saw his father reached out and take the hand of the other shape. He tried to blink past the blur. "Mother?" he breathed.

"You and Victoria will have a long time together, Diego. Enjoy every minute of it." He heard his father say. He tried to speak again, but no sound came out, as his vision finally faded entirely.

_ZZZ_

Diego awoke with a gasp. He had to blink several times, before he realized he was in the tavern, not the de la Vega garden. Victoria was sitting next to him, her hand gripping his own, tightly.

"Diego," she said worriedly.

"Victoria," Diego managed to get out.

Dr. Hernandez suddenly appeared and put a bowl to Diego's lips, helping him to swallow some of the bitter mixture. "This will help with the pain."

When Diego finished, Dr. Hernandez gave him a reassuring smile. "Your head should clear up soon, Diego. The bullet wound is minor, it missed anything vital for the most part. You should be fine in a few days, if you follow orders."

"Oh, he will be following orders, Doctor. I guarantee that much." Victoria said with conviction.

Diego looked sheepishly at the doctor. "What about the alcalde?" he asked.

Dr. Hernandez looked away for a moment. "He's dead, Diego. The bullet caused too much damage. There was nothing I could do."

Diego sighed as he nodded. He felt no joy at the alcalde's death, but he was finding it hard to feel any regret either, not after he tried to kill Victoria yet again. He was just sort of numb by the whole thing. "What about Mendoza?"

Victoria gave his hand a squeeze. "He is…upset, but realizes he had no choice. It was you or the alcalde. I, for one, think he made the right choice."

Diego gave her his best reassuring smile. "He's a good man," he said quietly.

"Yes, he is."

Diego turned his attention back to the doctor. He was already feeling better as the fuzziness in his head faded away. "I will be in bed for a few days, you said?" Diego asked the doctor, who nodded. "As long as it isn't any longer than that. I'm getting married in two weeks, you know." He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he looked into Victoria's eyes.

The doctor smiled down at his patient. "I think I may have heard that news, somewhere." It was hard not to have heard the news. It had been all the pueblo was talking about since the announcement the prior day. The doctor put a hand on Victoria's shoulder briefly as he turned to leave. He, too, smiled as he quietly shut the door behind him, leaving the happy couple in peace.

END

_**See, I really do believe in happy endings. It was interesting to explore a darker side of Zorro, but in the end, Zorro is Diego and his natural goodness will re-emerge, no matter how lost he may be. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed it.**_


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